#he needs it against the preceptors

[anshares]

Sharing some sketches I did from our renheng server

what do you think this is?? what kind of AU is it, care to guess?

[andypantsx3]

contents: general bakugou x princess reader; fem + afab virgin reader. nsft; oral (f receiving) & missionary. semi-sequel to this drabble. 3.2k.

Your wedding day arrives far earlier than you are prepared for.

It’s a tense affair, for you at least. The country depends on it, and you feel the scheming eyes of the nobility hot on your skin as you pronounce your vows to Bakugou. They will not take kindly to your having chosen him over their sons and brothers, over their own desire to rise to power. There will be a price they will want you to pay, soon enough.

The chapel is resplendent with sumptuous decor, the court in their finest. But the room is fringed with Bakugou’s men in their military leathers, a reminder that this is not a happy day, but rather a dangerous political stunt. It keeps the noble houses docile while they are in the room with you, but you know they will return to their estates and their plans. 

Your fate is in Bakugou’s hands, now, in more ways than one.

The ceremony is dizzying, and impossible to wrap your head around. The preceptor pronounces Bakugou your prince-consort, ostensibly to remain so while you assume the throne after your father’s passing. You will continue to rule him as his sovereign. But your vows to Bakugou also promise him your obedience as his wife. 

It is a contradiction, an impossible trap, the very reason why the general is the only man you could stomach the thought of marrying. If a husband is to rule you after all, Bakugou will do so justly. 

The thought does not stifle your nerves, however, as you make your way back down the aisle, sit down to the reception, and take your meal. A disquieting, anticipatory feeling settles over you, fizzing under your skin. You barely pick at your dinner, and drink too much of the wine.

You can tell Bakugou notices, scarlet gaze ever-perceptive, though he does not say anything until you are shepherded to the bridal suite to consummate.

Various aides try to follow you in to prepare you, but Bakugou slams the door closed on them, propping it shut with one broad shoulder. He barks at them to scram.

“Lord General—that is, Your Highness,” one of them stutters through the door. “We are required to witness the consummation—to verify that it is complete.”

A bolt of shame goes through you at this, and you catch hold of one of the intricately-carved wooden bed pillars. Bakugou grunts, holding the door closed with one palm while spinning to the nearby dressing table and chair. He grabs the chair, wedging it forcefully up under the door handle.

“You’ll be sure of consummation when I’m done here,” he growls through the door. “Don’t need you little fucking perverts making eyes the whole damn time. Now beat it.”

A weird sound escapes you, something between a gasp and a laugh—at his promise, at his gruffness.

“Your Highness,” comes a plaintive entreaty through the door. Bakugou slams a fist against it, and you hear a squeal and a sound like someone’s fallen over their feet.

An absurd laugh seizes you, and Bakugou eyes you pettishly.

“The fuck’re you laughing about,” he says, but there’s no heat in it.

Your fingers twist on the bedpost, nervously tracing the lines. “You’re taking to your new post well.”

Bakugou’s features twist into something dangerously satisfied, a smirk painting his mouth. Your breath comes short.

“My post,” he echoes, raising an eyebrow. “As your husband.”

Your stomach swoops. The disquiet flames back to life under your skin, settling heavy in your gut like a stone. 

“I supposed it is a post like any other,” you say, fixing your gaze on the ground. “There are responsibilities and… marital duties.”

You hear the soft tread of Bakugou’s boot as he steps away from the door, the rustle of his doublet as he draws closer. His many medals and ceremonial sword belt clink softly. It is a fashion you know he does not prefer, always living in his shirtsleeves—the better to fight in, to train in.

A calloused hand takes your chin, tipping your face up to his.

“You nervous, Princess?” he asks. His tone is obnoxious, as usual, but his crimson gaze traces your face.

You barely suppress a shiver under his touch. Your stomach churns with a thousand emotions and you find you don’t know how to feel. Relieved that you’ve made it this far. Annoyed with Bakugou’s composure and general manner. Apprehensive about what is to come. And warm, suddenly, all over. You do not want to examine why.

“Nonsense,” you sniff. 

A feral smile curls the corner of Bakugou’s mouth like he sees right through you. “You’ve never been with a man.”

Your face burns but you force yourself to return Bakugou’s assessing stare. “I’ve never been to Musutafu, either, but I know it well enough. I should think I am… prepared.”

Something hot alights in Bakugou’s gaze, burning like a coal. It’s not unlike how he looked at you that night in the dark outside his chambers, when you’d first come to him with this wild proposal.

“And what do you think you know,” he says, flatter than a question.

Your nose grows hot. “Enough.”

A thumb slides along your jaw, settling against the pulse in your neck. “Answer the question, angel.”

Your face just might be on fire. You steel yourself, reciting dispassionately. “You will undress me and then… enter me. I shall lie still—they say you can breathe through the pain and it will go away after some time. You will… work yourself to completion. And then we shall be done.”

A snort comes from Bakugou. “Is that how you royal tightasses do it?”

You feel your eyes narrow. “That is how everyone does it.”

Your ladies in waiting had been very emphatic. All of them had spoken of the same mechanics. The initial discomfort, the pain, the way a husband moved upon his wife until he was satisfied.

“You don’t know shit, Princess,” Bakugou says.

You reach up to pull his hand from your face, but he tenses, arm growing solid and immovable. 

“Explains why all you nobles are such fucking tight-buttoned pricks if that’s how you’re doing it.”

Your reply is startled out of you when his hand finds your waist. You take a step back, and then another, startling again when your back finds the wall. Bakugou follows you, eyes hot.

“You are insufferable,” you inform him hotly. “I am sure of the matter.”

“You’re always sure of a lot of things, Princess,” he says. His hand is back at your waist, and suddenly all your skin feels too hot and tight, stifling like a velvet dress in summer.

“I am sure you are the most obnoxious man on earth,” you say. “Now be quiet and commence with it. Let’s have done with it.”

Bakugou’s face is suddenly closer than you’d remembered it being.

“I’ll have done with you alright,” he says. “But I’m not gonna do it like you little uppity prudes.”

You find you can’t think of what he means, all of your thoughts clouded with his proximity, the feeling of his hand moving to your skirts.

“I—but there is only the one way,” you manage. None of your ladies had mentioned anything else.

Bakugou’s mouth cuts into a smirk again, and you hate him for how pretty it is. 

“We’ll fuckin’ see about that,” he says.

And then his mouth is pressed to yours. 

It’s nothing like the stilted peck you’d been obliged to give him at the ceremony—one that still left your face burning, for some unknowable reason. This feels entirely different in its intensity. Bakugou’s mouth is hot and soft and tempting and eager, and your body thrills with it.

Every inch of your skin feels like it zings with lightning when he licks into your mouth, and he presses you harder into the wall. You feel his groan all the way down to your toes.

“B–akugou,” you pant when his mouth leaves yours, only to stifle a yip when he moves down to your throat. He sucks a mark there, laving over it with his tongue, and you feel like you're melting in his hands. “That’s—not my—ah!—mouth,” you manage.

The tiniest scrape of teeth has you yelping again, and you find yourself clutching his bicep for purchase.

“No shit,” he says, leaving another mark lower, mapping his way towards your chest. Calloused fingers come up to cup one of your breasts, thumb swiping over your nipple through your stays. You catch hold of his hair, yanking a fistful of that flaxen blonde, clenching your thighs together.

“What are you doing?” you hiss. 

Bakugou looks up at you, expression annoyed. “Consummating.”

“But you’re not undressing me,” you say. “And shouldn’t we—on the bed?

Bakugou raises a blonde eyebrow. “They tell you it needs to be on a bed, too?”

You blink, momentarily disarmed. It was quite literally called sharing the marriage bed—where else were you supposed to do it?

“Are you sure we’re talking about the same thing?” you eventually ask him.

Both of Bakugou’s eyebrows shoot for the moon, and he looks very suddenly like he wants to laugh. A grin yanks at his mouth, sharp and beautiful.

“I knew you’d be a fucking handful,” he says, his tone somehow both annoyed and delighted. “Don’t even know what the fuck you’re talking about and you’re still trying to give me orders.”

You yank at the fistful of his hair you’re still clutching and he hisses, hand shooting out to grab yours. He works your grip off of him, pinning your wrist to the wall. The air in the room suddenly feels a hundred times thicker, like trying to breathe through honey.

“Listen closely, Princess,” he tells you, leaning in. “We're going to consummate, alright. But I’m not just gonna squeeze my eyes shut and stick it in. I’m going to do what I want first, and you’re going to be good and let me.”

Your face ignites in flame. You want to disagree reflexively. “If it’s going to be painful I’d rather just have it over with, if you don’t mind,” you say.

Bakugou stares back, scarlet gaze roving over you. “It’s not gonna be if you shut up and let me do what I want.”

You blink. You hadn’t heard that there was a way around the pain—why hadn’t anyone told you?

“I—really?” you ask.

Bakugou nods. “Really.”

“Oh,” you say. “Well then… you may proceed, I suppose.”

“You suppose,” he echoes, staring you down. The look on his face makes you want to lean forward and bite it off.

“Well get on with it,” you say, arching your eyebrows.

Bakugou looks for a moment like he wants to shake you. But he ducks his head instead, lowering his mouth to yours again.

“Gonna fuck that bossiness right out of you,” he mutters, low like he’s promising himself and not you. But then he kisses you again, muffling your gasp in his mouth.

You’ve never kissed another man, and do not have a frame of reference for what he’s doing. But Bakugou is a good kisser, you think. Every flick of his tongue feels like someone has uncorked champagne and poured it beneath your skin, and every brush of his mouth against yours sends a liquid heat racing through your veins.

You moan into his mouth when calloused fingers delve beneath the collar of your gown, dipping into your stays and pinching a nipple. He rolls it carefully, and you arch against him without any say-so from your brain. 

“Been thinking about this, Princess,” he says. “Ever since I saw you in that little nightdress. Gonna show you what it really means to be with a man.”

You’re excused from answering by his mouth back on yours. Not that you think you could, with the way his fingers feel in the cups of your stays, or the press of a strong thigh between your own.

“Bakugou,” you gasp when he peels off of you, only to sink to his knees before you.

“It’s Katsuki,” he says, busying himself with the hem of your skirts. 

“B–Katsuki,” you say. “What are you doing?”

Long fingers roll up the hemline of your dress, then yank at your underthings, exposing you to him. You gasp again, moving to cover yourself, but Bakugou pins you to the wall with an arm across your stomach, catching your thigh and pulling it over his shoulder.

“Husbandly duties,” he replies, another smirk on his mouth.

And then your head thunks against the wall as that mouth moves, pressing to you.

“Katsuki!” you shout, biting off into an embarrassing moan when he laves over you. No one had told you about this part—about how a man’s mouth there would make you feel like fireworks had just been lit off in your veins. About how a man’s mouth could even go there at all.

Bakugou doesn’t reply, kissing you there as he had your lips. A delicate suck from him over the cleft of you has you arching in his hands again, and you can quite literally feel him smirking against you.

He works you thoroughly, licking and sucking for what feels like torturous hours, but must only be minutes, until you’re a writhing, panting mess, only held upright by the arm he has banded across your lower stomach. There’s a pressure rising within you, pooling in all your limbs, making you shake and shiver with it, and what feels like no way to release it.

“Katsuki—I feel strange,” you say, bucking against his mouth. “Oh—oh!”

“Just hold on, sweetheart, and let yourself feel it,” Katsuki tells you, before licking back over you. A finger presses up inside of you, foreign but strangely good in conjunction with his mouth. Then another one presses in and they curl as if seeking something, making you twist in his grip.

And then something makes you jerk—the press of Katsuki’s fingers inside you in just the right spot, while he sucks on you, feeling like he’s touching the same place inside of you from both sides.

Something inside you snaps, uncoiling, pleasure flooding down you like a mudslide. You cry out Bakugou’s name, tears in your vision, riding out your pleasure against his mouth. Bakugou licks you through it, groaning low in his throat with appreciation.

“That’s it, Princess,” he says, tone rough. “Now you’re ready for consummation.”

You hear his words as if through a haze, and it’s only once you’re moving—being picked up and carried over to the bed—that you register what he’s saying.

He frees himself from his breeches, and stretches out over you, kissing your mouth. You’re embarrassed to taste yourself on him, but the press of him to you overrides that concern. In one smooth stroke he presses in, and you are shocked to find that he slides home easily, your core slick and ready.

It feels strange, but not at all unpleasant—absolutely nothing like what they’d told you.

“You alright, Princess?” Bakugou asks.

“I—yes,” you say, voice fluttering off when he flexes his hips, moving inside of you. The slide of him inside of you is unexpectedly good, especially when he lowers a hand to your core, pressing a thumb to that bundle of nerves at the hood of you.

“Feel good?” he asks, his eyes hot on your face. You cling to him, hips lifting into him unthinkingly as his thumb pets over you again, as he presses in and out of you a few more times.

You nod, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of saying it aloud.

He grins anyway, feral and fever-bright. His pace picks up into something faster, and you’re embarrassed to hear the slap of him against you, the eager way your body welcomes him in.

The band of pressure builds up inside you again, slowly, with every sure stroke of Bakugou inside you. He’s hot and hard and heavy over you, pressing you into the mattress, and the tops of his cheeks are flush with effort—the way he looks sometimes when he’s just come in from the training pitch.

He’s beautiful—handsome and strong and hot-headed and determined. And it dawns on you that he’s yours now—not just your subject but your husband, your prince consort, and now your lover.

It makes all your skin turn molten hot again, especially when you look down and see your knees have rucked his shirt up. You can see the flex of his abs as he thrusts between your thighs, all that golden skin and dense muscle.

The slide of him inside you and the sight of him over you is suddenly too much, and you feel yourself tip right over the edge again. Bakugou catches your hand as you lift it to muffle your cry, kissing over your knuckles.

“That’s it, Princess, that’s it,” he says again, ducking his head to kiss you.

You moan into his mouth as he fucks you through it, and he groans with the clench of you.

“Feel so fuckin’ good,” he says against your lips, pace picking up faster. “Knew you would, sweetheart, yeah.”

Embarrassingly you feel almost like you could come apart again with the praise. Bakugou groans once more, and you can hear his grip tighten in the blanket next to your head. His hips buck and flex, wildly uncontrolled now, until he gives one final hard thrust.

His weight pins you down when he relaxes over you, his breath tickling over your shoulder. You find you like the weight of him on you, covering you, like a shield against the rest of the world.

Apt, for a general.

“Better than how you wanted to do it, wasn’t it, Princess?” he asks, smug.

You scoff, but you catch the flash of a white grin in the corner of your vision. There is really no question that he’d had the better of it, this time.

“Knew you’d see it my way,” he says.

Over him, you can hear the flutter of feet outside the door, some muffled discussion. Heat rises to your face when you realize the castle aids most definitely heard you cry out under Bakugou’s ministrations. There will be no doubt of your consummation now, regardless of whether you were observed.

“Nosy fuckin’ perverts,” Bakugou says, rolling off of you. You catch another flicker of his chest with the way his shirt gapes, and he looks doubly smug when he notices.

“Not done yet, angel?” he says.

“I am, thank you.” You flush, embarrassed at having been caught. But Bakugou stretches an arm out to yank you over him, pressing you down over his hips.

Your stomach flutters.

“Give me a couple more minutes, Princess,” Bakugou says, scarlet eyes flashing with heat once more. His hand raises to trail through your hair, catching in the wedding hairstyle they’d pinned you into. 

“Five more minutes,” your new husband promises you, with a grin like the devil. “And then we'll give them something to really listen to.”

[milksnake-tea]

━━ under the lotus leaves.

You've known Dan Feng long before he became the High Elder of the Vidyadhara, before he donned the title of Imbibitor Lunae and became the legend he is known as now. Long ago, back when the two of you were mere children, playing in the waters of the Xianzhou Luofu.

imbibitor lunae (dan feng) x gn!reader

contains: childhood friends au, set before dan feng is a criminal, slow burn, long fic, ooc!character for the first half bc he's growing up and is an annoying teen, mentions of blade's real name, death, spoilers for 1.2

genres: mostly fluff, hurt/comfort, some angst bittersweet ending

word count: 8.6k

a/n: please do note that this is dan feng, not dan heng. and therefore i take a lot more liberties with how he is because i firmly believe that dan feng was more of a bitch than dan heng BYE ALSO THIS IS UNEDITED !! ILL EDIT IT TMRW WHEN I WAKE UP I JUST HAD TO GET THIS OUT BYE

img credits

Your best friend was an extraordinary being.

There was no doubt about it. Regarded as both the strongest and wisest of your people, he was chosen as the High Elder, Imbibitor Lunae. And he has served you well.

His feats are plenty, with his joining the esteemed High-Cloud Quintet, and you couldn't count the amount of time he'd saved the Xianzhou on one hand. He was smart, intelligent, and witty, quick to understand situations and formulate the best solutions. His enemies feared his presence on the battlefield, and his friends trusted him with their lives.

As did you.

You, a mere civilian. A single face among thousands of Vidyadhara, another footstep among the crowd. You, who have lived through his past and present. You, who knew him better than he knew himself.

You, who has been by his side since the very beginning.

━

It was a stormy day when you first met Dan Feng.

You were just a child back then, a Vidyadhara only eight years of age. Normally, at this stage in your life, you'd be guided by the current high elder, but it seems that you had undergone your cycle at the same time as the past high elder.

So as life would have it, you would instead be raised by your seniors, while the Preceptors tended to the newly reborn high elder. A skilled weaver in your past incarnation, you were taken in by your then coworkers, and raised within your craft of making lotus silk.

As such, your childhood was filled with looms, lotus flowers, and spinning threads. You spent your free time in the gardens of lotus flowers, hiding from your caretakers amongst the tall stems and diving into the waters to swim amongst them. You may not have had the draconic features of the High Elder, but you still adored the water like any other Vidyadhara.

And as it would seem, so did the High Elder.

It had been a hot and sunny day at the Luofu. The rays were smoldering on your back as you waded through the lotus fields, thankful for the cold water splashing against your legs. You squinted against the sun, adjusting your leaf hat on your head. Tucked against your arm was a woven basket filled with lotus stems, all of which would have fiber extracted from them.

The tall leaves and flowers of the lotuses dwarfed your child self in comparison, although you weren’t complaining. Although the water sloshed around your thighs, requiring you to roll up your pants more than your older coworkers, the leaves served as temporary relief from the sun’s rays.

You pushed stems aside, the field looking more akin to a jungle to you. You only needed one more before you could return home to the comfort of an air conditioner in order to extract the fibers for the threads. Thankfully, that wouldn’t have to wait long.

Once you found a suitable stem to harvest, you snapped it from its roots and began to wash it in the water. Your basket floated next to you, you keeping an eye on it to make sure it wouldn’t float away.

But then, you heard the stems rustle, and the waters splashing as something entered your field. Immediately, you stood up straight, holding the lotus stem more like a weapon than a crop.

“Who’s there?” you called out, your voice ringing through the silent and tranquil fields.

No response.

You huffed, carefully setting down your stem in the basket. Whoever it was probably thought you weren’t a threat merely because of your age. You’d prove them wrong.

You heard the stems rustle one more time, snapping your head towards the source. Picking up your basket, you marched over to a large clump of lotuses, a perfect hiding spot (you would know, you’ve used it many times before). A shadow around your size moved within them, submerging itself into the water.

You rolled your eyes. Another kid, then. 

Pushing the stems aside, you saw the flicker of a draconic tail splashing the water, almost wagging as its owner lay face-first in the murky water. Without a second thought, you set aside your basket, grabbed the tail with your grubby little hands, and pulled hard.

“OW!”

The tail’s owner toppled out of the water, crashing into you in the process and knocking your foreheads together. You yelped, falling into the water with a splash as you held your aching forehead.

“What was that for?!” A child-like voice, much like your own berated you, a whine in his tone.

Glaring through your tears, you shouted back at him. “That was for bumming around on my farm!”

Your victim/intruder, a young boy with long hair, met your glare with equal fire. “I wasn’t ‘bumming around’, I was just… Cooling off! It’s hot today.”

You squinted, clearly not impressed. “I don’t care what you were doing! You’re not doing it on my farm.”

He lashed his tail angrily, splashing you in the process. “I’m the High Elder. I do what I want.”

You stared at him for a good second, taking in his appearance. He was a Vidyadhara around your age, only he had draconic-like horns protruding from his head. His long black hair flowed around him, and his fancy white robes were drenched in lotus water. It would’ve been obvious to anyone that he was a noble, someone of higher standing.

“No you’re not,” you said, deadpanning. “You’re too small.”

The self-proclaimed High Elder flushed red with embarrassment, jumping to his feet.

“I’m still growing!” he insisted, stamping his feet and splashing water everywhere.

“The High Elder’s supposed to be big and powerful!” you said, throwing your arms in the air to emphasize your point. “You’re… a kid!”

“You’re a kid too-!” The High Elder froze in the middle of his sentence, his tail stiffening at the sound voices - adult voices. Quickly, he grabbed you by the collar of your robe and pulled you into the shadows of the clump.

“Hey-!” He slapped his hand over your mouth to shut you up. In retaliation, you licked at his hand, the young boy recoiling in disgust.

“Did you just lick me?!” he hissed, looking at his hand in horror. 

“You’re the one who just grabbed me-”

“Shh!!” He put a finger to his mouth, shushing you. “Be quiet! Can’t you see I’m hiding?”

“From what, the Cloud Knights?” you gasped, backing up. “Are you a criminal?!”

He gave you a look. “No! I told you, I’m the High-”

“High Elder? Are you there?”

This time, you both slapped a hand over each other’s mouths. An unfamiliar adult voice shouted over the fields, calling for the boy beside you. You both waited with bated breath as the man searched on the other side of the field, only letting go when he was far enough away.

“You weren’t lying?” you whispered excitedly, looking up at the boy with newfound respect. He crossed his arms, looking all high and mighty now.

“Why would I be lying?” he said matter-of-factly. “You were the one who didn’t believe me.”

You really wanted to make a witty comment, but then you remembered your stems, floating out in the sun. Panic seized you. You couldn’t let those stems dry. If they did, they’d be useless to you.

You jumped to your feet, hurriedly running to your stems. Thankfully, they were still where you left them, and in the shade. You sighed in relief, knowing that you would live to see another day.

You peeked your head over the lotus heads, spotting the man who was calling for the High Elder. He was wearing some pretty fancy robes himself, the robes you recognized as belonging to a Preceptor.

Cradling your basket once again, you walked back to where the High Elder was hiding. He looked up at you in surprise as you reached towards what used to be a preening lotus flower, now a pod filled with green seeds. 

You snapped it off the stem and popped out one of the seeds. After peeling the green skin to reveal the white center, you handed it to the High Elder.

“Want one?”

The High Elder was wary at first, but eventually took the seed. He chewed it in his mouth for a little bit, his eyes brightening at the taste.

“It’s sweet,” he said in surprise. You nodded, taking one for yourself before giving him the pod.

“You have the rest on this one,” you said. You pointed in the direction of the Preceptor. “The big guy looking for you is over there, by the way.”

“Oh.” He took the pod in his hands, still a bit freaked out by how it looked. “Thank you.”

“Master always said I have to make it up when I do something bad,” you said, picking up your stems. With a start, the High Elder seemed to realize that you were apologizing. “Anyway, I have to go now. The fibers will dry up if I stay out here too long.”

“Wait!” The High Elder called out, reaching for you. You turned around, raising a brow. His tail waved nervously behind him as his hand faltered. “What’s your name?”

As you answered him, in the back of your head, you could’ve sworn you’d read this scene before. 

You tilted your head curiously. “What’s yours?”

His expression was strange. It was a smile of relief and happiness, just from you not knowing his name. The waters responded to his joy, swirling gently around him.

“Dan Feng,” he said, his tail wagging slightly. “My name is Dan Feng.”

━

You remember seeing him dragged out of the fields a few hours later. You had been extracting fibers from the stems you’d collected when you’d heard the commotion. 

Dan Feng was having his ear talked off by the Preceptor, but he was being awfully obedient. The two of you had met gazes, and he had sheepishly waved at you. Your hands were busy with your work, so all you could do was giggle at his predicament.

Of course, that wouldn’t be the last time you saw the High Elder - far from it. 

Dan Feng would visit your farm often, whether it was for eating more lotus seeds, dragging you to go swim with him, or just to watch you work. Your mentors and coworkers grew accustomed to seeing the young Vidyadhara waiting for you outside the workshop.

All of his visits would end in the same way - a Preceptor would come and take him away for his studies, droning on about his duty as the High Elder while Dan Feng rolled his eyes behind their back.

It wasn’t like he hated his duty. You knew better than anyone that Dan Feng took pride in his role, he was just… stubborn.

“What are you doing?”

You flinched at the boy in question’s voice. Dan Feng was practically talking in your ears, his face right next to yours. You leaned away, batting away at him.

“None of your business,” you said, turning your back towards him as to hide your hands. Dan Feng pouted but didn’t push.

“If you say so.” He turned his gaze back to the open fields. His legs kicked as he dangled on the stone wall alongside you.

You sat in comfortable silence, feeling as the spring breeze blew gently around you. It was tranquil and quiet, as the lotus fields always were.

Dan Feng found he preferred it that way. It was nice to get away from the droning words of the Preceptors, and this little farm served as his favorite sanctuary. He could spend his days here forever, just being by your side.

His eyes shifted towards you again. You were oddly concentrated today, he noted, working on whatever was in your hands right now. It was unlike you to be so quiet. Usually, you’d be talking about the latest gossip you’d heard from your mentors, or complaining about the weather again.

He strained his neck, trying to see just what was taking your attention away from him. But alas, you saw him and snatched it away from him again. Frustrated, he blew at his hair, lashing his tail in impatience.

Oh, well. If you weren’t going to show him, you weren’t going to show it. It wasn’t like he wanted to see it anyways.

Dan Feng went back to spacing out, closing his eyes, crossing his legs, and focusing on the world around him. If he wasn’t going to do anything, he might as well meditate.

He reached his senses into the fields, losing himself in the environment. His ears were filled with the rustle of each individual leaf, the soft splashing of water, the croak of the frogs, and the buzzing of insects that inhabited the fields.

He could feel how the wind felt on every plant, the warmth of the sun not just on his skin, but on the skin of the other aquatic animals. At that moment, Dan Feng became one with the world. Nothing could break his concentration.

Nothing, except perhaps for you, who was trying to grab his hand as stealthily as possible.

Dan Feng snapped his eyes open when you took his left hand in yours. Apparently, you were too engrossed in your task to notice his eyes on you.

You slid something onto his ring finger. Dan Feng tilted his head, raising his hand to stare at whatever it was you put on him.

A band of woven grasses encircled his finger, the braid intricate and tight. Dan Feng looked at it in confusion, rotating his hand to get a better view of it.

“Do you like it?” you said proudly.

“What is it?” he asked, bringing it to his face to observe.

“It’s a ring,” you said obviously. You showed him your dominant hand, which had a matching ring on it. “I saw a couple of girls the other day with those friendship bracelets. I figured since we’ve known each other for a few years now, we should have something like that too.”

“Oh.” Dan Feng blushed at your words, a giddy feeling bubbling within his chest. Suddenly, the ring on his finger felt heavier, but also much, much warmer.

“It’s nice, right?” you hummed, holding your hand to the sky. “I mean, it’s not like one of those beads you can just buy, but I think it’s pretty special.”

“I love it.” Dan Feng beamed softly, holding his hand close to his chest. “I’ll treasure it forever.”

It melted your heart to see him so ecstatic over something as simple as a grass ring. He was quite literally glowing from happiness, his draconic parts illuminating with a soft sea green.

“I’m glad,” you said, hugging your knees to your chest. 

Dan Feng looked at you, gratitude brimming in his eyes. He didn’t reach out to hug you (although he certainly wanted to), but rather, only wrapped his tail around your waist, tugging you closer to him.

━

You loved Dan Feng, you really did. But sometimes, you really wanted to tie him up and throw him in a ditch.

You sigh loudly in frustration, jabbing at Dan Feng’s wound with an alcohol-infused pad. The boy in question hissed in pain at your actions.

“Would it kill you to be gentler?” he attempted to jolt away, but your hold on his arm was firm.

It had been many years since you two had first met. The two of you were adolescents now, nearing adulthood.

Dan Feng had appeared at your doorstep after training once again to escape his mentors, only this time with a bloodied gash on his shoulder. He’d tried to hide it from you, but to little success.

“Why didn’t you tell anyone about this?” you shot back, angrily wrapping his wound with bandages. Dan Feng averted his gaze.

“It wasn’t anything they needed to know,” he said quietly. You paused in your wrapping to stare at him incredulously.

“Are you kidding me?!” You pulled on the bandages, tightening them. Dan Feng winced at your loud voice, waving his hand for you to quiet down. Granted, you did, but you still decided on berating him.

“Feng'er, this is serious,” you said through gritted teeth. “It’s not one of those scratches you can just lick away. What if it had gotten infected?”

Dan Feng sighed, opting to stay silent and instead watch you work. Despite your harsh tone, he knew that you were just worried about him. He didn’t blame you, the wound was pretty serious.

His eyes softened as he saw your hands trembling as they worked. Your face was a mask of angry calm, but he could see the shake in your eyes.

“...sorry.”

You blinked. “What was that?”

Dan Feng dropped his gaze guiltily. “I’m sorry. I made you worry.”

“When do you not make me worry?” you joke, tying the bandage into a bow. Dan Feng smiled sheepishly.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated, touching your hand with his tail. “How should I make it up to you this time?”

“Hm…” You pondered the question, tapping at your chin before brightening with an idea. “I got it. How about showing me that little trick you were bragging to me about earlier, with the cloudhymm?”

Dan Feng laughed airily. “You always ask for that.”

“Well, no one around here knows cloudhymm except for you,” you said, crossing your legs on the floor. Your eyes practically glowed in anticipation - Dan Feng wanted to compare you to a puppy awaiting a treat. 

The thought made his lips twitch as he held back his laugh. You rolled your eyes playfully, nudging him eagerly.

“So pushy,” he said dramatically, but you knew he was just teasing. He sat up straight, smoothed out his robes, and without further ado, he began his personal spectacle for you.

With just a flick of his finger, water materialized around him, taking the form of white lotus flowers in the air. Droplets stilled, as though someone had stopped time in the middle of a rainstorm.

You’ve seen this view many times before, but you were still amazed each and every time. A lotus flower hovered in front of you, bursting into a cloud of mist as you touched it.

You giggled, leaning back onto your hands, watching the lotuses drift off into the air. Unbeknownst to you, Dan Feng was preparing a whole nother surprise for you.

As your attention was captured by the lotuses, Dan Feng swirled his finger in the air. His signature teal water erupted in a spiral, taking the form of a roaring dragon. You jumped in surprise as it circled around you, flying toward the ceiling.

Dan Feng made the dragon dance around the lotuses, even bumping against your cheek. You squeaked as it did, light-heartedly glaring at Dan Feng. He only smirked back at you, before he enraptured your gaze with the dragon once again.

It glided towards the ceiling again, curling into a glowing orb of water. Dan Feng made a fist, and the dragon and the lotuses burst into a fine mist, making rainbows in the late evening light.

You were glimmering with awe, a permanent smile fixed onto your lips as you reached towards the ceiling to catch the mist. It was cool against your skin, like a little kiss from the rain.

“Am I forgiven now?” Dan Feng asked, amused.

You rolled your eyes. “Only if you promise to tell someone the next time you get injured.”

Dan Feng laughed. “Yes, yes, of course.”

You turned to look at him, only to find that he had been watching you this entire time, a fond smile on his lips.

━

“Are you sure about this?”

Dan Feng whispered anxiously as you skillfully maneuvered through dark alleyways and streetlights, your hand clasped tightly in his. 

He kept looking back behind him, just to make sure that you weren’t being followed. He’d changed his appearance somewhat, making sure to hide his horns and tail, but he was still paranoid.

“Obviously!” you chirped back. You didn’t bother looking back at him, currently fixated on your destination - a crowd of bright lights, the smell of food, and the chatter of people. In other words, the night market.

Dan Feng let himself be dragged off by you, trusting that you knew these streets better than he did. He looked urgently back at you.

“When we get caught-”

“If we get caught,” you corrected, stopping momentarily to pull Dan Feng towards you. You let go of his hand to hold his face, pulling him to meet yours. “You trust me, right?”

Dan Feng sighed. “Yes, but-”

You squished his cheeks, effectively shutting him up. “No ‘buts’. What happened to the kid who would sneak off to swim in my farm?”

Dan Feng gave you a look, but with his face all squished up like that, you couldn’t take him seriously. Fighting down a giggle, you squeezed him one last time before letting go.

“Trust me on this,” you insisted, the lights of the market illuminating your back. “You couldn’t have lived for this long and not have been to the night market. You’ll love it, I promise.”

“And if I don’t?” Dan Feng hummed. You snorted, interlacing your fingers with his once again.

“Then I’ll do whatever you want later, alright?”

“I’ll hold you to that.”

Dan Feng squinted as you pulled him into the depths of the market, the bright lights blinding him momentarily. The savory aroma of grilled meat and fried vegetables wafted into his nose, the chatter of friends, families, and lovers filling the air. The two of you were practically consumed by the crowd, the only thing keeping him from being swept away was your hand in his.

It was overwhelming, but not in a bad way. Dan Feng’s eyes widened with wonder as he took in the atmosphere around him. He wasn’t used to so many people being in one place, at the same time. In the lotus fields and in his palace, things were always quiet, still.

He could see children playing silly games with one another, jewelers selling their handcrafted trinkets, and so many street chefs, cooking right on the spot over open flames.

A tug on his hand broke him out of his stupor. You had been watching him all this time, a knowing smile on your face. You tugged him over to a stand that was selling what looked to be skewered balls of meat, dripping with a sweet glaze.

“They’re berrypheasant skewers,” you explained. You noticed Dan Feng’s disgruntled look and nudged him. “Don’t worry, it’s just the fruit that comes off their tails. They didn’t actually kill anything.”

“Oh… I see.” Dan Feng relaxed a bit after hearing that. You gave him a smile before talking to the vendor. Once you had acquired your skewers, you grabbed his hand once more, moving to a secluded corner of the market to enjoy them.

You wasted no time in biting off one of the fruit balls, closing your eyes in delight as you let it slowly melt in your mouth.

“That’s amazing,” you sighed in contentment, leaning back on a wall. You opened your eyes to see Dan Feng silently chewing on his. “How is it?”

“Sweet,” he said, swallowing it. “It’s not bad. Although, I prefer lotus seeds.”

“Really?” you asked, finishing off your skewer. “I like these better. Or maybe that’s because I’ve spent my whole life eating lotus seeds.”

“Perhaps,” Dan Feng agreed. He looked off in the direction of the market. “This place, it’s…”

“Loud?” you jested. Dan Feng chuckled.

“That too,” he admitted, “but the word I had in mind was ‘comfortable’.”

You hummed in agreement. “Well,” you said, pushing yourself off the wall. “We’ve only just scratched the surface. Are you ready?”

Dan Feng nodded. “Let’s go.”

Whatever happened next was a blur. What had started as you dragging Dan Feng around to try different food turned into Dan Feng pulling you to whichever jewelry store caught his attention. Sometimes, you’d lose him in the crowd, and run around panicked only to find him in the middle of getting scammed (to which you’d drag him off, giving death glares to whoever decided to prey on him).

You soon learned that this was a lot more tiring task than you’d originally anticipated. It was like babysitting a toddler - one minute he’d be standing at your side, watching you as you bargained with the vendor, and the next minute, he’d be across the street, trying on some new earrings.

And to make matters worse, every time you wanted to wring Dan Feng’s throat the second you caught up to him, he’d turn to you with that stupidly pretty smile of his, showing off whatever trinkets he managed to pick up this time.

And of course, like the weak soul you were, you couldn’t stay angry at a face like that for long.

But safe to say, you were relieved when you reached the end of the market and instead came to the edges of Central Starskiff Haven, right in front of the Jade Gate. 

Here, the crowds had parted, allowing you to take a breather from your exhausting task. Of course, you were the only one who was tired - Dan Feng was vibrating with excitement, the brightest grin you’ve ever seen on his face.

“I take it you had fun?” you said good-naturedly, coming up beside your friend to watch the flow of starskiffs in and out of the Luofu. Dan Feng nodded, crossing his arms behind him.

“Most definitely,” he said happily. “The outworlder merchants have so many interesting things, I can’t help but be intrigued by them.”

“I could tell,” you chuckled. “I could barely catch up to you with the way you were running around. Imagine what the Preceptors would say.”

“We did agree that they would never find out, no?” Dan Feng pointed out. You shrugged.

“Fair enough,” you acknowledged. You gazed out into the glowing light of the Jade Gate before suddenly jolting in realization. “Lan above, I almost forgot!”

Dan Feng looked at you questioningly as you riffled through your pockets. His confusion only increased as you pulled out a small box, barely the size of your palm.

You opened it to reveal two jade rings, each with the image of a  lotus carved into its band. Dan Feng feels his breath hitch at the sight, and something in his chest tightened.

“What…” he couldn’t even finish his sentence.

“It’s your birthday, isn’t it?” you said. “I figured that now would be a good time to replace the ones I made when we were kids.”

That’s right. You didn’t just choose today of all days randomly. Today was Dan Feng’s birthday, and the day he officially became of age. Today was the last day of his childhood before he would fully take on the title of Imbibitor Lunae and the responsibilities that came with being the High Elder.

You couldn’t help but feel proud as you watched him take the rings with shaking hands. He’s still that stubborn child who listens to no one but himself, but he’s become so much more. He’s grown taller, more mature, more dignified.

And yet, he still looked like he might cry from your gift. He mumbled something under his breath, something you couldn’t catch.

“What was that?” you asked, only to be pulled tightly into his chest. Dan Feng squeezed you into his embrace as he tried to steady his breathing.

Slowly, you wrapped your arms around his waist, melting into his hold. Such moments like these were rare, after all. The furthest Dan Feng had ever gone with you was holding hands. Hugs weren’t part of his vocabulary.

“You know…” he murmured. “In human cultures, rings symbolize marriage.”

“Well,” you laughed into his skin. “We’re not human, are we?”

“Yes, but…”

“Are you trying to propose to me, gege?” You looked up at him, raising your brow playfully. Dan Feng blushed at the nickname, averting his gaze.

“That wasn’t my intention,” he mumbled, flustered. He quickly let go of you, hiding his face behind his hand as he tried to calm his rapidly increasing heartbeat.

You snickered at him. “I know, I’m only teasing. Here, give me those; I’ll put them on for you.”

But despite your words, Dan Feng couldn’t help the burning heat that enveloped him as you took his hand delicately in yours, sliding on the ring. He couldn’t stop his heart from pounding, couldn’t stop his thoughts of newly engaged couples doing exactly what you were doing.

And most of all, he couldn’t stop thinking of how badly he wanted to kiss you in that moment.

━

Ever since that day, neither you nor Dan Feng have taken off your respective rings. Dan Feng always kept it hidden beneath his gloves, while you showed it off even while you worked. You’ve been asked many times who the other ring belonged to, but you’ve never given them an answer.

One of these questionees was Yingxing, a passionate young outworlder who had come to the Luofu hearing of the feats made by Vidyadhara craftsmen. You’d met through a common friend of Jingliu, one of Dan Feng’s friends in the renowned High Cloud Quintet.

While Yingxing was a blacksmith and you a weaver, the two of you hit it off immediately. The two of you bonded over creating for the members of the Quintet, with you being responsible for the threads that made up their clothes, and Yingxing their armor and weapons. Many times, when one of you had a day off, one could find you in the other’s workshop.

You coughed as smoke arose from the furnace, fanning yourself. Yingxing glanced over momentarily.

“Are you alright?” he asked, a bubbling laugh in his voice. You nodded.

“Yes, just not used to so much smoke,” you sighed. Yingxing wiped at his brow as he took out the pot from the furnace, pouring the molten metal into the mold beneath him.

“If it bothers you too much,” he advised, “you should step outside.”

You shook your head, jumping down from your spot by the window. “I’m fine, don’t worry. But enough about me, what’s this you’re making?”

“It’s a spear for the High Elder.” Yingxing moved aside as you came up next to him. “See the way the metal glows from a certain angle? That’s the remnants of the Reignbow Arbiter’s arrow.”

“Fascinating.” So this was the weapon Dan Feng would wield.

You waved away embers from your face, and for a moment, their light caught on the ring on your finger.

“You’re married?” said Yingxing in surprise. You stared at him inquisitively.

“No? What made you think that?”

“Your ring,” he said, nodding at your finger. You looked down before spurting a laugh.

“Oh, this?” You toyed with it, fidgeting it on your hand. “It’s nothing like that.”

“You don’t sound so sure,” Yingxing commented. You huff.

“I am,” you retorted, nudging him. Yingxing whined at the jab, complaining.

“Don’t you know not to provoke a man with a hammer?” he threatened good-naturedly. You, being the very mature person you are, stuck your tongue out at him.

“Yingxing?”

The sound of your best friend’s voice interrupted your play argument as the both of you perked your heads. Dan Feng bent down as he entered the forgery so as to not hit his horns on the door frame.

“Dan Feng!” Yingxing greeted, waving. “What brings you here?”

“Don’t let me disturb you,” the Vidyadhara said, his nose wrinkling at the smoke filling the forge. “I’m merely here to check on the progress of the spear.”

“It’s still in the process of being smelted, as you can see.” Yingxing pounded away at the spear, shaping it into his desired form.

“Ah, is that so?” Dan Feng nodded. “I’ll come back tomorrow, then. Keep up the good work.”

“You’re going to leave without saying hi?” you interjected, fake hurt lacing your voice. “I’m hurt, Feng’er.”

Dan Feng flinched, as though he hadn’t noticed you at all.

“[Name]?” He straightens, blinking rapidly in surprise. Yingxing swore he’d never seen the High Elder brighten so quickly - he almost didn't believe his eyes when he saw his tail wag with joy. “I apologize, I didn’t see you.”

“It’s alright,” you laugh, walking over to him. “I haven’t seen you in a while. How have you been?”

“You two know each other?” Yingxing asked. Dan Feng narrowed his eyes, fixing the younger man with a glare.

“I should be the one asking you that, Yingxing,” he said lowly, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you close. “When did you and them get so close?”

“We’ve been friends for a while,” you answered for Yingxing, lightly hitting Dan Feng’s chest. “Be nice to him.”

Dan Feng pouted, reluctantly letting you go. “But-”

“No ‘buts’,” you scolded, crossing your arms. “If you’re not going to be nice, you can step outside.”

Dan Feng looked akin to a kicked puppy, but he relented. Although, when he saw Yingxing, trying his absolute best not to laugh, Dan Feng felt murderous intent for the first time.

His tail lashed angrily behind him as he watched you converse with the blacksmith, Yingxing sweating from the pure pressure of Dan Feng’s stare. He’d never been so relieved to see you go.

“I have to go now, but I’ll come back later, alright?” you said, waving at Yingxing. You squeezed Dan Feng’s shoulder on your way to the door, leaning in to whisper in his ear. “Don’t give him a hard time, okay?”

Dan Feng only nodded, briefly touching his hand to yours before you finally left, leaving the two men alone.

“So,” Yingxing coughed, looking anywhere but Dan Feng’s eyes. “Feng’er, was it?”

“You will not speak of this,” Dan Feng warned. Yingxing raised his hands in surrender.

“My lips are sealed, High Elder.” Yingxing smiled. “Although, if I were you, I wouldn’t wait.”

Dan Feng narrowed his eyes. “What do you mean?”

“How should I say this…” Yingxing pondered. “If you stall for too long, someone will sweep them away.”

Horror shot through Dan Feng like a bullet as he gaped at Yingxing. The thought of you leaving him for someone else, replacing him, hadn’t even crossed his mind.

“I don’t know what you mean,” he gritted out, taking a deep breath to calm down. “They would never replace me.”

Yingxing blinked. “Don’t tell me you haven’t realized.” He shook his head in disbelief. “Dan Feng, you’re-”

“Dan Feng, Yingxing, there you are.”

Jingliu crossed her arms in the doorway, her apprentice, Jing Yuan by her side. 

“Was that [Name] I just saw run out?” she asked, raising a brow. She shook her head. “Nevermind that. I needed to talk to you two anyways. We’re heading out in a week’s time.”

“What for?” Dan Feng questioned, furrowing his brows.

“The Denizens of Abundance have invaded our ally Thalassa,” Jingliu disclosed, her voice tight at the mere mention of the Xianzhou’s sworn enemies. “We’ve been ordered to drive them out.”

“Very well,” said Dan Feng. “We’ll see you then, Jingliu.”

She nodded. “Until then.”

━

It was the first time Dan Feng had seen death.

War was never pretty for anyone, soldier or civilian. It was dirty, dark, and grimy. In war, you had two objects: one, defeat the enemy. Two, survive.

Dan Feng cursed as he ran his spear through another borison, the ocean of Thalassa responding to his anger. Dragons made from water, the same ones he showed to you all those years ago, drove back the enemy, blasting them away and incapacitating them in the process.

He kept his eyes ahead of him, deliberately avoiding the ground. There, laid corpses of allies and enemies alike.

Death was uncommon on the Xianzhou, especially for a Vidyadhara. There were no soulless eyes on the Luofu, no limp bodies littering the ground. There were no pleas for mercy, no screams of pain and fear.

But here, in the midst of a foreign battlefield, all of those horrors revealed themselves, and bared their teeth.

Dan Feng made the mistake of looking down. His eyes met with that of a deceased borison, its own lifeless eyes glazed over. Instantly, Dan Feng faltered.

The borison looked nothing but a Vidyadhara, but their eyes were the same. It might’ve been a different species, following a different Aeon, but the intelligence and sentience were the same. They were a person, just like anyone else. Just like you.

Only this one wouldn’t rebirth into a new life. No, this one was spoken for, done in by his spear. They would never live again.

The battle blurred around him as he spiraled deeper into his thoughts. He knew that realistically, it would never happen, but he couldn’t stop the thought from resurfacing in his mind.

What if one day, you ended up just like that borison?

Dan Feng shook his head, raising his spear just in time to block an attack from an enemy. No. It would never happen. He’d be there to protect you. The Cloud Knights would protect you. Xianzhou would protect you.

But what if they couldn’t?

“Dan Feng!” Jingliu’s shout snapped him out of his daze. Dan Feng clicked his tongue, irritated at his own absentmindedness. The battlefield was no place for distraction; he of all people should know this.

With a thrust of his hands, his dragons came to Jingliu’s aid, healing her wounds and fending off the borison attacking her.

He was being ridiculous, Dan Feng berated himself. The enemy was vastly overpowered. Their victory would come soon. And when it did, he would be able to come home, home to you.

And he did.

It was nighttime when he returned to the Luofu. You were just finishing up before bed, setting aside the fabrics you’d woven that day. Your former mentor had just checked in on you, making sure that you were doing alright before they went to sleep.

You heaved a heavy sigh to yourself, folding the final sheet before setting it on a shelf. Dan Feng and the others had been at war for months now.

“I wonder how they’re doing,” you muttered to yourself, closing your eyes. You knew they would be fine. Jingliu, Dan Feng, and every other member of the High Cloud Quintet were blessed with powers that you couldn’t even begin to imagine. The invading Denizens would be no match for them.

But still… You couldn’t help but worry.

What didn’t help was how obvious Dan Feng’s absence was. You often looked over your shoulder as you wove, as though expecting the young man to be standing there, watching. The night market didn’t feel the same without him being dragged around to every stall.

The lotus fields, with all their flowers and pads, seemed empty.

It was as though a hole had been ripped out of your heart, leaving only a dull ache.

The sound of your door opening startled you. You swiveled around, utterly confused. Just who would be here at this hour? Very few people had access to the key to your home. 

Perhaps one of the other weavers? Or perhaps your mentor again, worried that you weren’t getting enough sleep?

The answer was neither. A strangled whisper of your name, in such a familiar voice, cut through the night air like a knife. Tears welled in your eyes as you took in the sight of your best friend, finally home after so long.

“Feng’er?” you whispered. He nodded wordlessly, taking a few hesitant steps into your home.

You met him halfway, reaching up to hold his face delicately. Dan Feng closed his eyes for a moment, letting out a little sigh. His arm came to the small of your back, pulling you in as he buried his face into the crook of your neck, breathing in your scent.

“You’re late,” you murmured, brushing your hand through his hair. Dan Feng tightened his arms around you.

“I’m sorry.”

“You should be,” you laughed, sniffling. “Do you know how worried you made me?”

Dan Feng pulled away from your neck, gazing into your eyes. His tail swayed, eventually circling around your waist. He gingerly held your chin between his thumb and index finger as though you’d break if he was any rougher with you.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated, brows crinkling. Quickly, he wiped away your tears. Of all else, Dan Feng hated seeing you cry, and hated it even more if it was because of him. “I’m here now.”

You nodded tearfully. “And you’re not leaving, right?”

“Not for a while,” he promised. “Even the Abundance will need time to recover from the damage we did to them.”

“Good.” You held his face in your hands. “Because right now, you’re mine.”

“Is that so?” Dan Feng said softly. His eyes lingered on your lips, his lips slightly parted. “I’m yours, is that right?”

“Mhm.” You smiled as you felt him press your bodies impossibly closer together, one arm around your waist and the other behind your head. Your lips brushed against each other, your voice a whisper as you two danced on the edge. “Mine.”

A push from Dan Feng’s hand, and he sealed his lips with yours.

Immediately, you closed your eyes, savoring the taste of his kiss. His lips were soft, yet cool, like the touch of a river on a summer afternoon. He kissed you with a hidden desperation, years of pining and longing unleashing themselves in this torrent of affection. You almost couldn’t keep up with him, letting out a whimper as he tilted your face gently, deepening the kiss.

Even when you parted for air, it wasn’t long before Dan Feng greedily pulled you back in, addicted to the feeling of your lips on his. His hands wouldn’t stop wandering in a languid motion, slowly roaming all over you, from your waist to your back to your neck, and back to your waist again, squeezing every bit he could find.

By the time Dan Feng’s relentless assault ended, the two of you were breathless. Words failed to form on your tongue as you simply stared into Dan Feng’s eyes, trying to catch your breath.

Dan Feng pressed his forehead against yours, his horns bumping against you.

"You don't know how long I waited for that,” he whispered huskily. You let out a breathless chuckle, wrapping your arms around his neck and nuzzling his nose with yours.

“I think I did.”

The corners of Dan Feng’s eyes crinkled. You’ve never seen them so up close before. The colors reminded you of a stone in a river, with cool grey giving way to gorgeous teal.

And the way he looked at you made your heart melt - it’s so tender, so soft, so filled with love that you can practically feel how much he cares about you.

And you can only hope that he saw the same in your eyes.

“I love you,” he confessed, like it was a secret. But even still, him being able to say those three words made it worth more than anything in the world. “I’ve always loved you, ever since we were children.”

Joy bubbled up in your chest, and you couldn’t stop yourself from giggling. Your hand came to his scalp, bunching up his hair in your fingers.

“I love you too, you dork.” You pecked him on his nose, and then his forehead, laughing as he wrinkled his nose in response.

Reluctantly, you released him from your grasp, instead tugging his hand into your abode.

“It’s late already,” you explained. “The Preceptors won’t mind if you come home late, right?”

“They no longer control me,” Dan Feng affirmed. You grinned.

“That’s good.” You lead him into your bedroom, glancing over to make sure he was fine with it. “I don’t have a guest room, so are you alright with sharing a bed?”

Dan Feng flustered, but he nodded. “Th- That’s fine with me.”

You would learn that Dan Feng was incredibly clingy in bed. He practically enveloped you in his arms, tangling your legs together as he hugged your shoulders. His tail was conflicted - either thumping happily against the bed or wrapping around you like a possessive snake.

But it was worth all of it. You felt safe in Dan Feng’s embrace, loved. In his arms, you slept the most soundly you’ve ever slept. It was as though you had found your other half.

You truly felt blessed when you woke up to Dan Feng’s sleeping face, so serene and tranquil. And fortunately for the both of you, that wouldn’t be the last time you woke up next to the other.

━

But those happy days were not made to last.

There would be many more feats Dan Feng would accomplish as the High Elder. He would become one of the most prolific Vidyadhara ever, forever documenting his name in history books.

You two would eventually marry, sealing your love not just with those rings. It was a marriage in the palaces of Scalegorge Waterscape, only the best for the High Elder. All of your friends attended, Yingxing and Baiheng especially praising Dan Feng (and lamenting about how he of all people got married before they did). 

Jing Yuan had grown into a fine young man, his intellect and skill with the Lightning Lord being parallel to none. Yingxing was beginning to age, being a short-lived species. Jingliu had retired, aiming to end her days peacefully.

But as said before, that wasn’t what fate had planned for the quintet.

Jingliu would be driven mad with mara, her only solace being the blade of her former mentor. Baiheng would be missing in action. Yingxing would be killed long before his time, leaving Dan Feng in despair over losing three beloved friends so soon. 

Perhaps that is what drove him to do what he did.

“How could you?”

Dan Feng winced at the crack in your voice as you screamed at him. You were crying, angry tears streaming down your face.

“My love, please-”

“Do not call me that!” you snapped, making him flinch. “You don’t get to call me ‘my love’ after that. What were you thinking?!”

“It was the only way!” Dan Feng insisted.

“It was cruel,” you hissed. “You know that more than anyone here.”

“They stole them from me,” Dan Feng growled, his eyes flashing. “It wasn’t their time.”

“I know,” you whispered, your voice hoarse from crying and screaming. “I know it wasn’t. But you know what immortality will do to them, Feng’er. You know what the curse of Abundance does.”

Dan Feng averted his eyes guiltily. You wipe at your eyes hurriedly, taking big, gulping breaths to calm down.

“What did the Preceptors say?” you finally asked. Dan Feng’s gaze lowered, a shadow cast over his face. A pit dropped in your stomach.

“They’re waiting outside,” he revealed. “I’m to be taken to the Shackling Prison, and forced into rebirth. They only let me be here to say goodbye.”

It was as though an anvil had been dropped on you, crushing you.

“No.”

It was the only thing you could muster out. You shook your head in disbelief.

“No. No, no, no!” you croaked out. “They can’t do that. Not to you.”

Ironic, how only a few minutes prior you were berating Dan Feng as though your life depended on it. Now, you were pleading for him to be forgiven, for a lighter sentence to be dealt out. Because for a Vidyadhara, a forced rebirth was practically the same as a death sentence.

“Isn’t there another way?”

Dan Feng shook his head, taking your arms in his hands.

“I’m afraid not. This is the only way the public will forgive my sins.”

He took a deep breath.

“Please, my love,” he begged quietly. “Look at me.”

You did.

“You have to be strong,” said Dan Feng, cradling your face one last time. “Promise me that you’ll be alright, even after I am reborn.”

You shook your head. “Feng’er, please.”

“Promise me,” he urged.

“I…” You faltered. “I promise.”

Dan Feng smiled sadly - the last smile you’d ever see from your husband.

“Thank you.” He pressed a sweet kiss to your lips, a kiss to last you the lifetimes he wouldn’t be at your side. “I love you, [Name]. And I’m sorry for being such a selfish husband.”

You closed your eyes, savoring him for the last time. Silently, you told him your forgiveness.

“I love you too, Dan Feng.”

That was the day the love of your life died.

━

Centuries have passed since then.

You’re still weaving, now taking care of your rebirthed mentors as they had cared for you. There are children under your wing now, hoping to learn your craft and one day start a business of their own.

You still keep in touch with Jing Yuan, the general visiting your farm every so often. Each time, you offer him a taste of the lotus seeds Dan Feng loved, but each time, he refuses.

Yingxing has become the Stellaron Hunter Blade, cursed with immortality and the mara that comes with it. If he remembered you, he never showed it.

The Ambrosial Arbor, reawakened by the Denizens of Abundance, runs rampant, threatening the existence of the Luofu itself. You hear from friends that Jing Yuan had enlisted a group of outworlders - the Astral Express - to help him with the crisis.

And now, those very outworlders were standing outside your door.

“Par-” Jing Yuan coughed, cutting himself off. “Pardon the intrusion, [Name].”

He was currently being held by a young Vidyadhara, one that… Your breath hitched.

One that looked almost identical to Dan Feng.

Your lover’s lookalike noticed your gaze at him. The second you met eyes, he seemed to know exactly what was going through your mind.

“...I’m not him.” He repeated this sentence for the nth time today.

You smiled sadly.

“I know.”

You turned to Jing Yuan, taking in the general’s sorry state. The outworlders, a young girl with pink hair, an older brunette man, and a grey-haired teenager all seemed to be in similar shape, although definitely better than the general.

You stepped aside. “Why don’t you all come in? It’s been a while since I’ve had company.”

“Thank you.” The brunette, who you would later come to know as Welt, thanked.

As you turned away, Dan Feng’s reincarnation noticed a jade ring on your finger, recognizing it as the one he had woken up in.

“That’s…”

You hummed, raising your hand. You’ve never taken it off, not even when Dan Feng was reborn.

“You recognize it,” you mused. “I suppose that means he still has it?”

The reincarnation hesitated, but nodded. You smiled.

“That’s good. Say, what’s your name, little one?”

“Dan Heng,” he answered.

 “It’s a good name.” You stepped away for a moment to the kitchen. “I apologize; the tea may take a while. I wasn’t expecting guests.”

“It’s no matter,” Jing Yuan assured.

And as you served tea to the Astral Express, you couldn’t help but notice: five people, seated around a table, enjoying tea. Just like a scene hundreds of years ago.

You chuckle to yourself, a carved lotus glimmering in the light on your ring.

reblogs w comments are appreciated !!

[eggluverz]

THE GENERAL NEEDS A BREAK… AND A MOONCAKE

PAIRING. jing yuan x gn!reader

SUMMARY. the general is drowning in work, and the mid-autumn festival is the perfect excuse to take a break.

SOF'S NOTE. i know it's late but i wanted to get this out still hehe hope you still enjoy the moon festival cuteness even though i missed it xD i've been in a jing yuan mood lately ngl i just wanna cuddle and have a lazy day with him :> pls enjoy!!

You knew autumn was in the air as you walked down the streets of the Exalting Sanctum with a bag of fried songlotus roots from a nearby vendor. The trees carefully scattered throughout the streets were now vibrant shades of orange and yellow; you could feel the crisp wind blowing around you. 

And while you were able to enjoy your time outside work, visiting the bustling Mid-Autumn Fesitval in Aurum Alley, you knew the general was not. 

In fact, you hadn’t seen your partner in days now because of how busy he has been lately. You weren’t even sure if he managed to escape work within the past week. 

With a sigh, you sadly munched on another songlotus root. That simply wouldn’t do. 

You understood Jing Yuan was busy trying to keep the Preceptors out of his hair while dealing with the threat of the Stellaron on the Xianzhou. And while you knew how important it was, you also knew Jing Yuan could delegate some of his tasks. He could free up just a bit of time to enjoy the festival before it came to an end for the year. 

As you approached the Seat of Divine Foresight, you were determined to accomplish just that— Get the general to come along and explore Aurum Alley with you. 

“How are you doing, General?” you drawled, walking over to his desk and peeking behind his stacks of papers. 

He blinked blearily before a small smile formed on his face at the sight of you. “Why, I’m having the time of my life. And you?” 

You went around to his seat and gave him a brief kiss in greeting. Your hand cupped his cheek as you smoothed the dark circles under his eyes. Jing Yuan sighed and leaned into you touch.

“I’m doing well,” you said. “Would be better if you could attend the festival with me.”

He chuckled at that. 

“I know you must be having so much fun working, but I promise I can make your Mid-Autumn Festival experience even better than this,” you sang, plucking the pen from his hands and placing it flat on his desk. 

“You certainly drive a tempting offer.”

“Then accept.” 

“Perhaps I will.”

You cheered as he laughed, setting his papers aside and standing up follow you out. Like the gentleman he was, Jing Yuan extended his hand out for you to hold. You accepted graciously and the two of you walked hand-in-hand out of his office and to Aurum Alley.

It was a long walk, but time always felt short with Jing Yuan. Minutes passed by too quickly and you found yourself always wanting to spend more time with him. 

Night had come by the time you arrived in Aurum Alley, and you had just made it in time to see the lanterns lighting up the sky. The warm, twinkling lights of the lanterns lit up the dark night, planting a seed of awe in you as you watched the festivities happily. You felt a stare pointed in your direction and you knew it was Jing Yuan looking at you in admiration.

You turned back to him and tapped his chin upwards. “You should be ogling at the lanterns, not me!” 

“Can a man not do both?” 

With a giggle, you rested your head against his chest. He was warm and inviting, and you were glad he could escape his life as the general for just a little bit to enjoy this scenery with you.

“Have you tried Tall Auntie’s mooncakes this year?” you asked, feeling your stomach grumble as you took in the delicious scents around you. “I swear, it tastes even better than before!” 

“I have not.” Jing Yuan shook his head, tucking your hand back into the safety of his own. “Shall we go?”

You nodded and skipped along, excited to have another one of her mooncakes. While mooncakes could be found everywhere, in all parts of the galaxy, Tall Auntie added the Luofu touch. The filling had a mixture of red bean paste and custard made from puffergoat milk— You almost drooled at the thought. 

Noticing the dreamy look on your face, Jing Yuan laughed. He wiped the corner of your lip, eyes bright with amusement. “You have something here.” 

So, perhaps you did drool at the thought. 

Smiling sheepishly, you wiped at your mouth. “I suppose I’m craving it now. You’ll love it too, trust me.”

“I’m certain I will.” 

As the two of your approached Tall Auntie’s food stall, you ordered two specialty mooncakes and found a secluded area to munch on them. There was a bench surrounded by trees and buildings, with a view of the lanterns growing smaller and smaller in the sky, and you thought it was a perfect place to enjoy your snack. 

“What do you think?” you said, eagerly watching him take the first bite. 

Jing Yuan closed his eyes in contentment, leaning back against the wall. For a moment, he said nothing. He simply chewed, savoring each flavor as it hit his tongue. When he swallowed, he opened his eyes and nodded at you. “Delicious.”

You beamed and he ruffled the top of your head. 

“It’s just what I needed after a long week of work.” 

“You deserve it,” you said, leaning your head on his shoulder. “Even the hardworking general deserves a break.” You took a bite of your pastry and hummed in contentment. “And a mooncake.” 

Jing Yuan nodded in agreement, shutting his eyes and allowing his heavy body to relax into your touch. “Thank you for bringing me here.”

“Anytime. And after, we’re going straight home and sleeping in bed.”

His eyes opened at that, a teasing crinkle on his nose. “I propose we partake in some other activities in bed before we sleep tonight.” 

You laughed at his boldness, glancing around to make sure no one else heard. “Jing Yuan!” 

“My love,” he replied. 

The warmth in your heart grew as you snuggled against him once more. “Okay, but only if you get me another mooncake first.”

“You have a deal.” 

[whimsiquix]

The irony of Ashwatthama of all people going “no warrior deserves to die like that” about Karna in Kalki, when he was involved in Abhimanyu’s death, slaughtered the Pandava army at night, Dhrishtadyumna, tried and failed to commit a genocide, almost murdered a foetus, and saw his own father’s head being chopped off in what was possibly one of the worst things that happened in the entire Kurukshetra is just-

To reinforce just how terrible this is, here is Arjun, AFTER Ashwatthama slaughtered his entire army and family countering his Brahmasira released to destroy his grandson, still praying for Ashwatthama’s welfare.

The mighty-armed one spoke to Arjuna. "O Arjuna! O Pandava! O Arjuna! In your mind, you have the knowledge of the divine weapon that was instructed to you by Drona. The time to use it has arrived. O descendant of the Bharata lineage! It is needed to save yourself and your brothers. You should release it, since it is capable of countering all weapons."

Having been thus addressed by Keshava, Pandava, the destroyer of enemy heroes, swiftly descended from the chariot and grasped his bow and an arrow. The scorcher of enemies spoke words of welfare, addressed to his preceptor's son, then to himself and all his brothers. He bowed to the gods and all his pre-ceptors. Meditating and pronouncing auspicious words, he released that weapon, so as to pacify the other weapon.

- BORI CE

Arjun who is so kind, who is so empathetic, who is the only one in all the world who understands just how much it hurts Ashwatthama to have lost Drona, who is so quick and easy to forgive crimes against himself, Arjun who couldn’t bring himself to kill Ashwatthama even on Day Fourteen, Ashwatthama who knew even in the end that if he had told Arjun to desist from war, that he would have because of how much they loved each other, that Arjun and Ashwatthama.

They deserve better than this.

[transformeroftheday]

Simpatico | Brainstorm x Perceptor FIC Recs

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@fascinationex Simpatico Fics

(Literally just all of them. But for my top favorites.)

A Record of the Eating Days | Ongoing | 12/? | E

Summary: In which Brainstorm takes a stopgap job as a cleaner and becomes attached to a very dangerous lab specimen--one he's not even meant to know about.

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The One Where Brainstorm And Percy Go To A Conference | Complete | 1/1 | E

Summary: For the prompt, "🤔 percy and bstorm go to a science conference, no one gets/believes that they're dating, smh"

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The one where Brainstorm sends Perceptor off to work with a sex toy like it's a packed lunch | Complete | 1/1 | E

Summary: :I packed something for you,: Brainstorm commed him, once he was already on the shuttle.

Perceptor's first instinct was to lunge for his pack in case something exploded.

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the sealpatico au | Series | G-E

Summary: Perceptor is a marine scientist working in the Arctic. Brainstorm is a frightfully clever, mammalian polar mermaid. Chromedome and Rewind have a television show on a cable channel where they're supposed to be documenting orcas. This series is heavily focused on the mermaid stuff but we learn about other characters along the way.

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heart's still beating, guess I'm pretty lucky | @sroloc--elbisivni | Complete | 4/4 | T

Summary: Brainstorm was silent, field indicating nothing. Perceptor calculated whether it would be more logical or illogical to wait, and concluded the latter. Brainstorm made rapid decisions, and had not formerly needed encouragement to voice them, but that had been millions of stellar cycles ago. “I would appreciate promptness in your rejection.”

“Who said anything about rejecting?” Brainstorm tipped his head to the side. “I’m just trying to make sure I’ve got this straight in my processor. You performed ethically dubious, untested, methodologically uncertain engineering on yourself. Because you missed me.”

Perceptor deleted all of his emotions for a reason. After the Quintesson threat leads Optimus Prime to push through the Autobot-Decepticon Alliance, that reason no longer applies. Fixing the situation is going to take some trial and error...and a self-proclaimed genius.

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The Left Side of the Lab | prisonmechanic | Complete | 8/8 | M

Summary: Preceptor takes a job in Iacon without reading the fine print. He very much regrets this.

Brainstorm has a large decision to make- expose himself and thousands of others and solve the fuel crisis or stay chained to a lab desk for the rest of his functioning. But Brianstrom Has always been good at creative solutions; Much to Perceprtor's dismay.

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Hazard Light | cerkowah, @eatyoursparkout, @emporianne | Complete | 1/1 | T

Summary: In the aftermath of the time travel incident, Perceptor made a resolution to get to know his lab partner better. He didn’t anticipate that he’d grow so fond of Brainstorm in the process. Blindsided by a rare and deadly illness, he realizes that he’s miscalculated the depths of his regard.

Perceptor is determined to study and cure the disease with Brainstorm none the wiser. Unfortunately, feelings have never been his area of expertise.

(Hanahaki AU)

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and the other | @polyhexian | Complete | 1/1 | E

Summmary: "Wow, you've had new emotion protocols installed for like a day and you're already developing new fetishes," Brainstorm commented, "Lucky thing they're fetishes for me specifically."

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you can touch (you can play) | badskeletonpuns, thevosboss | Complete | 1/1

Summary: “Ah, there you are, Brainstorm. I had a question for you about—ah. You seem…busy.” The lab's sudden guest—Perceptor—came fully into view, stopped in his tracks by the scene of Brainstorm leaning against a workbench covered in interface arrays. Brainstorm tried his best to keep heat from rising to his cheeks, especially as Perceptor cutely tilted his head and quirked a brow. “What…exactly are you doing?”

Fragging myself for science, Brainstorm thought. “Building spike and array mods for the crew, by request,” he said instead.

As an MTO, Brainstorm wasn't constructed with an array. In a fit of inspiration after a Perceptor-fueled recharge flux, he decides to fix this. Perceptor probes at his experiment, and Brainstorm finds answers to questions he hadn't even thought to ask.

[cf8wrk4u-us]

Across Space and Prime

Part 2: New Faces and Familiar Names

"-allow me to introduce myself" he stated stretching out his dark servo in a peaceful motion "I am Optimus Prime"

.

.

.

A stark culture difference between humans and Cybertronian is the fact that for the later, having the same designation as another individual was incredible rare if not unheard of.

Imagine if there were two bots named Warpath? Or Preceptor? Or even Ultra?

That be too confusing and cause a good number of problems.

Not that it's never happened before, but these were written off as incompetence done by facility guardians and Boot-Camp trainers.

 And as far as Optimus had know his trainer Kup and given him a name all of his own.

No one should have had it, no one.

So how? Why was there a great bot in front of him that just addressed himself by his name.

 Optimus was interrupted by his thoughts when he heard Sentinel give a mean snort.

"Oh really? Your Optimus Prime"? he said, the anxious stare he had at the face of this large mech disappeared and replaced with a nasty sneer "Right and I'm a Herald of Primus"!

 The larger bot looked taken aback and moved slightly back away from the group.

 "Sentinel-" Optimus whispered urgently but his fellow Prime just kept going.

 "Listen impersonating a Prime is a serious offence against High Command" he said placing both servos on his hips "Even if it is a disgraced one at that"!

  Optimus cringed as he saw the looks of shock and outrage grow on their faces.

"Sentinel"! he hissed and immediately pulled the other to face him.

  "What"? Sentinel demanded "You may be some maintenance bot, but you still hold the title of a Prime, not anyone could just use that name so freely"

Optimus tried really hard not to gnash his denta in frustration "I don't think that's the case though"

"Oh," replied Sentinel skeptically "And why is that"?

 The other Prime shook his head "I don't know but there not acting like their lying" before adding "Besides, why would any bot try to impersonate a no name bot like me"?

Sentinel face relaxed a bit from being called correct, till Optimus added this next part.

"In ether case, can you please not try to antagonize them"

 "I'm not antagonizing them"! he growled

Optimus shook his head "Well your not exactly being polite to the bots that possible saved our lives"

 On the other side of the room the bots who had brought them were having their own conversation. 

"Arcee" grunted the red and white bot "What kind of processor addled bots did you bring back to our base"?!

 "Hey, don't look at me"! said the femme defensively "Bumblebee was the one who insisted on bringing them"

<They weren't Cons> beeped the yellow bot, still in binary <You know what would have happened to them had they been left behind>!

Bumblebee.

Hearing the mechs full name it was then that Optimus took a more detailed look at the bot.

The same name, the same paint-job, yet so different.

His Bumblebee was a minibot that barely reached his waist, his plating was blockier and more compact, with a helm that carried two barely visible horns, and a glossa that spoke almost none stop. But outside the yellow of his paint job this Bumblebee easily would have toward over his teams minibot. The mech was easily the size of him and Sentinel, his plating more armored. Circular but at the same time reinforced, with many of the wires and joints slightly exposed within the seams yet protected by the other shell of the metal around it. Metal that looked far stronger and sturdier than any civilian frame would have. Along with that, two yellow doorwings that made him think of Praxian citizens he had seen back when he still was at the Academy at Cybertron.

Than there was his use of binary code instead of his own vocalizer.

 While there were mechs out there who choose not to speak as much, using code was often something reserved only for when a bot needed to keep their message private pr if they no longer had any use of their vocalizer.

A pit grew in Optimus stomach.

Loss of use of the vocalizer were usually the results of ether rare cases of deformations within the system, accidents, or battles....

Optimus took another good look at the bots around him.

 Outside of Arcee and the red and white bot (which Optimus was sure he could make a pretty good guess of) the mechs around him were easily at the scale of warrior class type mechs. And with weapons equipped into their bodies much like warframe even, if the blue of their eye lights didn't obviously state them as Autobot.

  Optimus then pipped up a question "If its not too much trouble, could we please use one of your central computers"

The red and white bot sent a fiery glare in his direction "Let a bunch of unknow bots put their servos and some of our crucial equipment"? he stated "I don't think so"

"Then just one of your smaller monitors then" said Optimus "I just need to access the planets network".

 "I said that's not happening"! growled the mech

"Please! Our readers our down, as well as our commlinks, we have no idea where we are, I simply want to confirm something-"

The red and white bot gave an even fiercer look.

"And I'm saying I'm not readily assisting a group of strange mechs, especially those who are willingly accompanied by a Decepticon"! 

He jabbed a metal digit at the direction of the femme who had been quite all this time.

But no sooner did they notice the Decepticon symbol on her color did their arms changed into the lethal blasters from earlier.

  "A Con"?! shouted the large green mech named Bulkhead "Slag it! And we brought them right in"!

Blackarachnia took a defensive position and as the solder class bots approach them.

   "She isn't a threat/She's not with us"! shouted both Optimus and Sentinel.

Blackarachnia snorted "Goodness! I feel so protected"!

 Optimus threw an unhappy look at both the femme and his fellow Prime before looking at the bots in front of him, under their mistrustful stares he raised his hand in a peaceful manner.

"We don't mean you any harm, we are not affiliated with the Decepticons, we simply wish to try to establish where we are" he said "If you could allow me to look up a name, I would greatly appreciate that"

  The red and white mech spoke up "We are not offering assistance to-"

"Please, Ratchet"

The mech looked startled before narrowing his optics.

"How do you know my name"?

Optimus gave him a sad smile "Your an experience medic in the field and despite your less than perfect berth side manner your a bot who deeply cares for his patients" 

The mech was silent before he looked at the bot besides him, the other Optimus Prime.

  "Optimus"? he called

How strange was it to hear his own name but not a single optic was aimed at him but instead this large and powerful looking mech.

They looked at him for orders, for guidance, with absolute trust.

A look not expressed down the line from his own team till much later on their stay on earth.

This mech, this leader, who was now studying him.

Despite how intimidated he was of them, Optimus gulped before staring back at those ancient optics.

Locking with those optics Optimus found another difference between himself and the mech, that while the optics of his eyes glowed a bright blue behind the glass the eyes of the towers bot before him shone with a light all of its own. An ancient bright iris shining brightly among a depth of mechanics, both age and experience clear in them. He had been around older mechs such as Ratchet, and Ultra Magnus, even encountered Alpha Trion when he gave brief lectures at the academy.

But he never encountered optics like these.

Then something unexpected happen.

A small smile formed on the great mechs face before he turned to the medic besides him.

 "I see no harm in allowing this young Autobot to make a quick search" he stated.

 "Optimus" Ratchet tried to argue.

 "With you managing the devices of course Ratchet" stated the mech before looking at Optimus again "Though it confuses me how a mech never seen before by my team or seen with the Decepticons knows about this planet's networks, as arbitrary as they are".

  Sentinel then grasped his shoulder "Yeah! Why are you asking to use this shoddy organic network? We need to get access to the commlinks"!

He shrugged him off "There's something I have to confirm Sentinel"

Looking at Ratchet, this Ratchet, as he made his way to the monitors, he spoke to him.

 "Please look up the name Issac Sumdac".

The medic grumbled before typing.

Optimus was taken a back at not seeing the familiar face of the kindly scientist and father of his friend.

Instead were a list of several Issac Sumdac's, some with a link to a site called Some Social?

"Could you type Sumdac Systems, located in Detroit"? pressed Optimus. 

This didn't yield any results ether, only for the word Sumdac to be auto corrected to solar panel systems or even solar systems.

Hilarious if this didn't make Optimus an unsettling feeling in his optics, only to turn into straight horror when he noticed something in the far corner of the screen.

 "Well,"? gruffed Ratchet "Anything else"?!

But Optimus didn't answer.

"Optimus were wasting time" complained Sentinel "What even is this for"?

Sentinel paused though when he didn't hear a response from his fellow Prime.

 "Optimus"? he heard the questioning voice from Ratchet.

It was then the mech lifted his servo and pointed to the screen "Sentinel, the year states that the Earth month of this year is 2011..."

 Sentinel frowned at him confused "Yeah and"?

"When we left the year was 2101...."

His fellow Prime looked startled before saying "What does that mean"?

Optimus shook his head "Nothing good"

 "WHAT"! demanded Sentinel 

Blackarachnia strolled smoothly towards the pair.

"Oh, just tell him Optimus" she said "Sentinel has always been slow on the uptake"

It was noticeable that the other bots had noticed how he was being addressed.

  "Did you just call him....Optimus"? said Arcee bewildered.

Taking a deep intake he said "I believe I owe you an explanation"

The other Optimus, the other Prime, stared at him quizzically.

 "Yes, I believe so"

He nodded before saying "For starters, my given designation is Optimus Prime" the mech said, cringing a bit at the shocked faces the other bots gave him, but continued "And unfortunately I believe were far mor lost than we thought"

"Okay explain this to me again"? asked Bulkhead, this worlds Bulkhead.

It was interesting how despite the obvious differences, the sheer size of the new Bulkhead and the act he was armed with blasters, that they could still share the same wide eyed befuddled look.

"Our group experienced...an accident with our Transwarp generator" Optimus explained once more ", and I believe the resulted blast must have taken us from where we are, our version of the planet earth, and took us here"

The group had moved away from the monitor station and had gathered into a far more spacious area. Sentinel and Blackarachnia kept to Optimus side but no closer than they had to be. Optimus could see from the corner of his optics how Sentinel would give him anxious looks that he always tried to hide behind a scowling brow while Blackarachnia stood tense and giving sneers to anyone looking her way.

Optimus knew that maybe he should have mentioned that he, Sentinel, and his team were engaged in battle with Blackarachnia and the destruction of the Transwarp device was due part to her. But seeing how hostile the other Autobots had become at the apparent Decepticon, he didn't want anymore of an antagonistic view towards her. 

He felt slightly relieved that Sentinel didn't try to "correct" the story...yet. 

 "Another version of Earth"? said the version of Ratchet, his voice thick with skepticism "You can't really expect us to believe that"?

"I understand that's hard to believe" said Optimus "But multiverse theory is something scientist have contemplated as something possible" 

  "In theory" stressed Ratchet "But the idea of other universes other than our own is still seen as a supposition at best"!

Blackarachnia gave a low chuckle at that "You know what they say, a theory is only a theory till its proven true"

The medic sent a glare at her but the femme simply gave a small wave.

Optimus coughed "In ether case, after the blast me and my....associates found ourselves in that cave and eventually those Decepticons"

"What rotten luck" the other Bulkhead chuckled dryly "Waking up in a Con mining operation, good thing we saved your metal at the nick of time"

Sentinel who had been oddly quite spoke up.

"Those Decepticons" he said "They were mining energon"?

 A lot of the bots gave Sentinel a look that meant how foolish they found his question, like it should have been obvious.

But it wasn't.

Back in the beginning when Optimus and his team found themselves stranded on earth he had ordered Teletron 1 with its limited range to try and locate potential pockets of Energon. Only to not find any, leaving Optimus to assume that this was simply a planet that didn't contain this specific mineral. It was disappointing but since the oil found on earth was edible, he and his team didn't run the risk of starving.

But it seemed once more, with the addition of Energon and the absence of Issac and even Sari Sumdac,  that this version of Earth was far different than Optimus own.

 "With the war between the Autobots and Decepticons still persisting, the scouting and collection of Energon is a vital thing" said this world version of him, Optimus Prime. 

Wait...war?

Optimus could feel his mouth part in shock as the moisture of his intake disappeared.

"You are currently at war with the Decepticons"? he breathed out

The other him looked at him, slowly blinking before saying "You are not"?

Optimus shook his head "Our war with the Decepticons ended a million years ago"

The bots around him look at Optimus, their blue optics wide at his words.

With a pause the mech who shared his name spoke again "Currently we have endured war with the Decepticons for many long centuries" he stated "As of now we find ourselves on Earth, locked in deadly and intense combat over control of this world's supply of energon, which as you now is the fuel and lifeblood of Autobots and Decepticons alike" he then added "Even with the departure of Megatron we are still on defense against the other faction, but there is hope we can someday see an end of this war"

 "Megatron departure"? asked Optimus "Are you saying that Megatron is no longer here"

His mirror version closed his eye before saying "At our recent battle there was heavy amount of devastation done, one which I am not sure Megatron had the strength to leave unscathed." 

 Megatron was gone.

Since the battle on the Orion and his consequent revival back in Detroit Megatron felt like this impossible force to fight.

He always felt it was a wonder he and his teams were able to thwart him and his soldiers over and over again.

But now he was gone...it almost seemed impossible.

 "So with Megatron gone, whose the one running the show" Blackarachnia asked.

The blue femme narrowed her optics before sighing and saying "My guess is Starscream"

Blackarachnia let out an unhappy breath "Seriously, that screechy seeker"?

The Bulkhead of this world gave a small chuckle but stopped when Arcee and Ratchet shot him a look.

"Megatrons gone, great" said Sentinel in almost a bored tone "But is there a way your planning to help send us back to our world"?

Optimus was glad Sentinel seemed to believe him but he couldn't help but be embarrassed at his fellow Primes demanding tone.

  "Well, were currently in use of our own groundbridge and its Transwarp modulator" said Ratchet in a deadpan tone "And we have no spares or extra materials for use, certainly not in a way that would be strong enough to supposedly open gateways to other dimensions"

"Do you have any ships then"? asked Sentinel "If you're not able to help us I'm sure someone on Cybertron does"

Optimus was ready to apologize for his fellow Primes demands but was cut off guard by the somber almost pained expressions on their faces.

"...unfortunately me and my compatriots don't have any ships for use" said the other Optimus with some hesitancy.

"Than how soon can you contact someone from Cybertron? Maybe the Autobot Science Division"?

There was more silence and Optimus was starting to get worried.

 "We cannot contact Cybertron" Ratchet stated solemnly.

"Why not"?! Sentinel demanded "With Megatron gone, aren't you planning on calling in for more support to clean up the rest of these Decepticons? The Elite Guard"?

None of the bots seemed to want to speak, almost hiding something they knew would be devastating to the strangers before them.

But Sentinel had little patience for their hesitancy.

"Hello? Why isn't anyone answering me"?

Finally, his counterpart said in a quiet voice laced with old grief "There is no way to contact Cybertron, unfortunately, Cybertron no longer exist"

[yeyayeya]

My reaction to TGCF Season 2 Ep 7 (Part 5)

*novel spoilers*

His sword is so comically large idk it’s really funny to me when I see it

Ok but damn is LQQ animated so pretty

RUOYE THE MVP!!

Was Ruoye smirking at LQQ? If so, what a sneaky silk band.

OMG WAIT

Now I need to see both Ruoye and E’Ming just playing and messing around together omg please

I love inanimate objects with almost animal traits to them, and I have the biggest soft spot for Ruoye and E’Ming you don’t know

Also not Xie Lian still talking to LQQ and giving him advice on the whole attack thing. I would have loved to see more of Xie Lian being the State Preceptor of Yong’An

“You weren’t like this before, Guoshi”

“Wdym I was always like this, you just didn’t know”

AAHHHHH

This also reminds me of how both Mu Qing and Feng Xin, despite knowing Xie Lian for quite a long time, didn’t truly know Xie Lian either

And meanwhile Hua Cheng does

And the next line he says?? “Don’t create an inviolable monument to me in your heart without my consent”

I had to search that word up, but basically he told LQQ to not make an image of Xie Lian that was near perfect or something, and seeing the closest imperfection would make him think of someone different and make their image of him waver and therefore that image of Xie Lian be something that is not him?

Idk if I am writing it correctly like my thoughts want me to, but I guess I get the gist of it? Don’t know if that’s right. But again, the shot were it switched to Hua Cheng. I cannot deal with this anymore wtf

Except Hua Cheng’s image is different than everyone else, as it showed Xie Lian with all the imperfections (he was there for almost all of Xie Lian’s lowest moments) and he still loved Xie Lian

And we get a small flashback

Ok but who is he?? I know he’s LQQ’s little guy, and he was most likely appointed by LQQ as his general or something in the heavenly capital, but who exactly is he?

I need a name for him now I am kind of invested in him. He also seemed to have a long relationship with LQQ, and while he’s not exactly standing up for Xie Lian against the Yong’An council or nobles (idk who they are tbh) he is standing up for the Xianle people to not be persecuted

We stan kings who fight against racism

And despite LQQ’s complicated shit with Xie Lian, he still took his advice? Despite not knowing that XL was from Xianle, he still took care of the people of Xianle alongside the people of Yong’An because they were his people?

After all this he definitely deserves an explanation of what XL did, and while he is a bit foolish, I understand his reason for revenge.

[cappuccilious]

HCQ if they were in a danmei setting

Don’t take this seriously, I’m just having fun

Same canon timeline from game except Elio and Kafka support Ren when recalling his lost memory.

Dan Heng is not shallow enough to believe in the rumors about Dan Feng and he would actually investigate (like Lan Wangji investigating the trigger of Wei Wuxian loss of control)

Jing Yuan would be suspicious and investigate the preceptors in the shadows once he gathers the puzzle pieces (instead of waiting for who knows how many hundreds of years have passed since Dan Feng molting rebirth).

Like Dan Heng, Ren would also have little bits of memory recall (mirages) when he visits old places that he and Dan Feng used to stroll and hangout.

I forgot to mention that Ren and Dan Heng’s relationship is still the same, Ren chasing and telling Dan Heng to pay for their sins.

But this time, he also does some investigating himself when the actual suspicion that during the incident in the past is too strange.

(I just want people to stop thinking Dan Feng is a villain 😔)

Dan Heng having dreams of Dan Feng talking to him.

Unlike in-game again, Jingliu acknowledges that she is an unreliable narrator that she has suspicions of what happened, mentioning that there might be a third party.

Dragon heart theory

Jingliu tries to recall what happened to Baiheng’s remains

Renheng reconciliation arc actually happens.

Ren and Dan Heng have their moments like working together without fighting for once, booking one room and one bed, Ren not admitting he is jealous when he doesn’t know anything about Dan Heng, and Dan Heng comforting Ren when he’s having nightmares.

Jingliu seeks help from Luocha who can aid him to not only communicate with the dead but also proceed their plan against the Aeons.

The way we have readables that suspects the preceptors involvement but Dan Heng never reads them so in this AU, this Dan Heng ACTUALLY READS.

Ren accepts Dan Feng is gone and face Dan Heng in the present. Dan Heng accepts Yingxing might never return and face Ren in the present (in the future Ren’s old habits comes back).

Dan Feng sacrificing the world and his own future to save Yingxing while Dan Heng sacrificing his own lifespan and cloudhymn magic that belonged to the Aeon of Permanence, Long to save Ren.

To get rid of the immortality and return Dan Heng’s full power back, Ren returned the dragon heart to Dan Heng.

Dan Heng waiting for Ren to wake up for 400 years. In those years, Dan Heng cleaned and fixed the mess that Dan Feng was not able to do, remove the High Elder system and took away the elders and preceptors’ duty from teaching the young.

Dan Heng continues the plan Dan Feng of setting his people free from the samsara cycle.

Along the way, Dan Heng was able to find a solution how to get rid of the mara (I ain’t gonna explain that, it’s a long explanation)

Jingliu traveling the world, from planet to planet while carrying the last memento of Baiheng. Promising that they would meet and cross paths again.

Jing Yuan retiring and letting both Fu Xuan and Yanqing handle his duties. He decided to carve his own path and hopes to be able to meet Dan Heng again.

Dan Heng wanted to be there when Ren wakes up but he’s needed by his companions. To the sleeping Ren, he promises he would look for him.

Few days later, Ren woke up to an empty room. Elio, Kafka and Silver came by later while Ren was getting ready to depart with them.

Before they left, Ren told Elio that he would temporarily leave the group soon.

Silver asked why, only for Ren to answer that he has unfinished business with the owner who has the other half of his bracer.

The end. I might have missed something but nothing important, probably!

Having 4/5 unreliable narrators is… hard to accept. Not even Jing Yuan is a reliable one even if he wasn’t involve.

Xianzhou plot is just an overall mess, it’s like almost everyone accepted Dan Feng destroyed the universe or something when there are still sinister masterminds lurking in the shadows of Luofu roaming freely.

So I just made my own AU of to make myself feel better. Please don’t take this seriously if you’re gonna get affected negatively 🙏

[generalsmemories]

BEFORE ANYONE STARTS TO GO AGAINST DAN FENG.

I need you to be aware of the fact that animation was not Dang Heng against Dan Feng.

It was rather Dan Heng against Dan Heng. That Dan Feng was a manifestation of his struggles given form - that Dan Feng was the product of what the preceptors had told him about his previous incarnation, and in no way a sign to show what Dan Feng was like.

I ain't gonna see that man slandered, he's already slandered by his next self like please remember that Dan Heng (and as such this animation too) is an unreliable narrator.

[valvesandthings]

Preceptor x Reader Breeding Kink

Four.

That’s how many overloads he’d drawn out of you. Perceptor was a mech of science and there rarely existed a moment in which he wasn’t observing, manipulating, and collecting data. And yes, that absolutely included fragging. He utilized every readily accessible tool —servos, mouth, toys, restraints— to tease you to the brink and, after hovering on the precipice for an agonizing moment, push you over the edge.

But tonight was different. There was more to it than Perceptor’s usual game of cause and effect. You were now five overloads in and he hadn’t even opened his panels. He watched you with carnal hunger, but seemed to be reeling himself in, holding something back. His optics whited out for a second while he took a picture of you with your legs spread and limp on the berth, valve swollen and anterior node throbbing, spike arcing into the air, smeared with oral fluids and your own transfluid. You were a mess for sure but he ate it up, quite literally at times.

You tilted your hips and whined, attempting to entice him. “Percy,” you moaned.

He was above you in a flash, capturing your mouth with his, demanding your glossa and effectively muting you. Whining was one of his few weaknesses. When he pulled away he left a parting nibble on your bottom lip.

“Yes, love?” he asked, voice thick with tightly restrained arousal.

“I need you.” You stretched the words into another low whine. Hopefully that would convince him to finally give in and properly frag you.

Perceptor set back on his heels, straddling your waist, too high up your frame to offer any pleasurable friction. “I have a request,” he said, slipping into his clinical science-man voice. Masking his nerves with the detached tone.

You ghosted a servo over gray hips. “Anything, baby. I’d do anything for you.” After everything he sacrificed to help the Autobots, what was one kinky moment? Perceptor worked day and night to further his own knowledge and therein aid his faction in the war against the Decepticons. He was a quiet, devoted, noble mech who never quite got the recognition he deserved. You intended to give him everything and anything he could possibly ask for.

He swallowed hard. “Would you consent to being the subject in a highly intrapersonal and physiologically intensive experiment? With me, of course.”

That sounded awfully vague. “And what exactly is the purpose of this experiment?” you asked, playing coy to stretch the moment.

“To test the function of a long dormant coding in our frames and determine whether or not said coding is a feasible form of survival for our dwindling species.” He didn’t even blink.

You paused, thinking you knew where he was headed with this. “On Earth?”

He tilted his helm slightly to the side. “I have considered all variables. Here and now is no less ideal than if we were to wait. If you do not consent—”

“With you, I’d do anything. I mean it, Percy.” You remained steadfast in tone even though your spark fluttered anxiously.

Perceptor smiled and leaned forward to kiss you again. As he drew back, he whispered, “Then spark me. Fill me with your bitlits.”

Your hips twitched just at the thought. A Percy so full with fluids he could barely walk, then growing round with sparklings of your own siring. . . “Oh Primus,” you moaned.

“Is that your consent?”

“Yes, Percy, a thousand yeses!”

He smiled again and finally revealed himself. Transfluid spilled out of his plump valve in an absurd amount, like it’d been building up for days behind those enticing red lips. His spike was no better off, both engorged and twitching, blushed blue with excess energeron. Blinking blue biolights lit a path from the tip of his spike to his gray exterior node and you longed to follow it with your glossa. He ground back on the curve of your spike and you both hissed at the lovely bit of friction.

“And,” Perceptor groaned out, “in turn, you will —ah— receive enough reproductive fluids to potentially produce a healthy batch of sparklings.” His excitement meant that his processor was struggling to filter and speak “normal.” Science was his default. As he finally, finally caught the tip of your spike with his valve rim, what he said set in.

“We won’t let a drop of fluid go to waste, baby,” you vowed.

He slammed down on your spike, that carnality unleashed at last. It had a one track mind now, and later Perceptor would deem this a successful experiment in his notes.

[harukehn]

oc-tober day 8: past

posting this but in a shy way since I'm putting a little snippit of writing under the cut.

baby boy. baby baby boy... this was from just post the personal story. i made up some whispers lore or whatever but this is the reason why he has a very high pain tolerance.

"Preceptor Velazquez."

Trahearne called out to the man suddenly, the words tumbling from his mouth as he noticed him walking past.  Doern turned to face the sylvari.  "Ah, Marshal.  Can I help you?"

"You can."

Doern's eyebrows raised in response to his stern tone.  "Perhaps in your office, then?"

Trahearne nodded and without a word he whisked past the other man, leading him through the winding hallways. Without turning around, he opened the door to his office, stood aside and gestured for the Preceptor to enter.  The sylvari followed close behind him, quickly closing the door.

"It's been a while since I've seen you so serious, Marshal," Doern said curiously.  “With the threat of Zhaitan dealt with and all.”

The sylvari skipped over his comment.  "I respect that the nature of your Order may mean you aren't at liberty to share certain information with me," Trahearne said, leaning against his desk with his arms folded.  "But I'm afraid in this particular situation, I must insist that you tell me what I need to know."

An amused smile tugged at the corner of Doern's lips.  "Straight to business then.  And what is it you need to know?”

"I'm sure you're aware that the Pact's Commander works within your organisation."

"Lightbringer Harukehn.  Of course."

"And I'm sure the Order of Whispers can appreciate that, regardless of the Commander's previous history, it's quite a privilege that he is able to continue working for you alongside his other duties," Trahearne continued, his eye contact pointed and unwavering.

"That's one way to look at it," Doern replied carefully.  "We're grateful that the Lightb–, uh, the Commander," he corrected himself as he saw Trahearne's mouth tighten, "chooses to grace us with his time."

Looking satisfied, Trahearne continued.  "The Commander is also a very skilled fighter, wouldn’t you agree?”

Doern looked thoughtful for a moment before slowly nodding.  "While I haven't worked alongside him enough myself, I have heard as much."

"Does he regularly return from missions unscathed?"

The Preceptor's brow furrowed at the specific question, his suspicion growing.  "Not many of us have a perfect record but, on the whole, I would say so, yes."

Trahearne smiled, but it was anything but friendly.  "I see."

The sylvari straightened and took a step toward the human.  Doern stood his ground.  "Then would you mind telling me, Preceptor, why your Order is constantly sending the Commander back to the Pact bruised, battered, and bleeding?"

"Ah."  Doern's face flickered with understanding.

Trahearne took another step forward.  "I will not stand for my Commander being sent on reckless, dangerous missions if he’s going to return to me in increasingly poorer health."

Doern chuckled slightly, and Trahearne’s mouth twitched with frustration in response.  "I see what's going on here."

"Do you?"  Trahearne’s tone was cold.

"I suppose the Commander didn't tell you,” he sighed.  "Though that makes sense.  We didn't outright say he could.  Incredible discretion, that one.  You sylvari seem to only come in two flavours; complete blabbermouths and lips so tight it's almost inconvenient."

Trahearne remained silent.

"Your Commander is training to become a Keeper, in case you didn’t know."

"I am aware."

"Keepers, like Lightbringers, are privy to a lot of important information, but they often work alone due to the sensitivity of their missions."

"You don't need to censor yourself with me, Preceptor," Trahearne said flatly.  "If you mean assassination, you can say so."

Doern smiled.  "There might be some of that, yes," he said.  "Point is, if they go missing, there's a risk it may not be noticed for a time."

Trahearne held his tongue, but Doern noticed the judgement in his expression.

"We obviously check in with them on a regular basis, but we still need…  Assurances, shall we say, that the confidential information they carry won’t end up in the hands of our enemies."

"What kind of assurances?"

Doern seemed to consider the sylvari for a moment, weighing up his options.  "Given our agreement, I suppose this isn't above your paygrade," he mumbled to himself.  “In order to become a Keeper, we need to make sure our candidates are resistant to all kinds of interrogation,” he explained.  "And so, they receive training."

Trahearne stared at him, and Doern was slightly uneasy at the incredulous look in his eyes.  His disbelief seemed to indicate that he had understood the indirect explanation.

“You mean to say you are torturing h–”  Trahearne cut himself off.  “You’re torturing your own people?”

“It’s consensual,” Doern said with a shrug.  “And they can opt out whenever they want with no consequences.” 

“How generous.”

The human folded his arms and fixed the other man with a challenging look.  “It’s pragmatic, Marshal.  Our agents are privy to highly confidential information.  Getting caught is a risk of the job.  You become a Keeper understanding that protecting your intel may have a heavy cost.  We are giving our people the ability to withstand that,” he explained, a hint of indignation creeping into his voice.  “Not that I need to justify our methods to you, right Marshal?”

Trahearne looked away, shame beginning to warm his cheeks as recognition washed over him.  “It is his choice, then,” he eventually said.  He avoided Doern’s gaze as he spoke again.  “So, may I ask how he is doing?”

He was grateful for the way the Preceptor glossed over his unjustified temper.  “Quite well, actually.  I can’t remember the last time I’ve seen someone progress this fast.  Maybe strange to say, but I think the Commander has a real knack for–”

Doern’s words were cut off as the door to the office suddenly swung open.

“Speak of the devil,” the man muttered with a half-smile.

“Marshal,” Harukehn managed to stammer.  “P-Preceptor,” he gave a quick bow.  “I’m so sorry.  I should have knocked.”

Trahearne’s face softened and he held up a hand.  “It’s alright, Commander, come in.  We were just finishing up, weren’t we, Preceptor?”

“Yes, we were,” Doern replied slowly.  “Good to speak with you, Marshal.”  He turned and began to walk toward the open door.  He stopped beside Harukehn for a moment.  “Keep up the good work, Lightbringer.  Though I don’t think I’ll be calling you that for much longer, hm?”

“Thank you, Preceptor,” Harukehn said, lowering his eyes respectfully.

Doern looked over his shoulder at Trahearne once more and the two shared a look that escaped Harukehn’s notice before he left, closing the door behind him.

“I’m sorry for interrupting, Marshal,” Harukehn said, breaking the silence.

Trahearne shook his head.  “Don’t worry, it’s no problem,” he said, his gaze shifting down toward the bandage wrapped around the other man’s neck, identical to the strips of white dressings that had been appearing all over his body in recent weeks.

“Is everything alright?”  Harukehn asked tentatively. 

“Everything is fine,” Trahearne replied, but it was unconvincing.  He knew he could have left it there and Harukehn would not have probed further out of respect.  He took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a moment.  Despite himself, he began to speak.  “I was asking about you.”

“Me?”

He squeezed the bridge of his nose and exhaled.  “Now it’s my turn to apologise, Commander.  I should have just asked you directly.”

“What about?”

“Recently, you have been returning from your Whispers duties with more and more injuries.  I was concerned,” he explained. 

“Oh.”  Harukehn seemed at a loss for words.  “I…”

“I understood that there was a chance that whatever was going on, you may not be able to disclose it to me.  And so, I didn’t want to put you in a difficult situation.”  Trahearne sighed and shook his head.  “But I fear I may have made a fool of myself by making assumptions.”

“I should have told you,” Harukehn said apologetically.  “But I wasn’t sure…”

“You’re not obligated to tell me everything,” Trahearne said.  There was a trace of reluctance in the furrow of his brow.  Harukehn shifted nervously before walking over to the other sylvari.

“I should have told you what was going on sooner,” Harukehn said.  “But I thought maybe no one would notice,” he tried to offer lightheartedly.

Trahearne frowned.  “Why would you think that?”

Harukehn hesitated.

“Look at me, Harukehn,” Trahearne said. “Why would I not notice?”

Harukehn shook his head.  “I don’t know,” he said, breaking out of his shocked silence.

Trahearne gave him a sad smile.  He reached out with open hands.  “Will you let me look?”

Harukehn nervously held out his right hand.  The other sylvari slowly removed his glove and gently unwrapped the hastily tied bandage, placing it on the desk.  He removed the blood-stained gauze and frowned as he looked over the wounds on Harukehn’s wrist.  They were fine and precise, clearly from a purposefully wielded blade.  On the surface, they did not look that serious.  But it was the depth of the cuts that concerned him.

"What was applied to your wounds before you left?”  He asked softly.

“Nothing,” Harukehn admitted.

The sylvari tutted with frustration.  He reached over the desk, not letting go of Harukehn’s arm, and rummaged in his desk drawer.  He withdrew a small bag and set it down, opening it and withdrawing what looked like first-aid tools.  “Allow me.”

Harukehn nodded.  Trahearne guided him to a chair.  He sat across from him, on the corner of his desk, and busied himself with cleaning the man’s skin of dried blood.  He knew that the antiseptic would have stung, but he noted the way that the other sylvari did not even flinch.  Doern’s words of praise were clearly not misplaced.

“If they’re going to put you through all of this, the least they could do is tend to you properly afterwards,” Trahearne mumbled his critique as he worked.  “Re-opening the same wounds over and over again, too…”

Harukehn obediently sat still.  “It’s not that bad, I promise,” he offered.

“Even so.”

Trahearne re-applied fresh bandages to both of his wrists carefully and then discarded the bloodied supplies.  His hands fell to his lap and for a moment he was quiet.  “Your neck,” he said, his demeanour suddenly hesitant.  “May I?”

Harukehn nodded again, but he sunk into the chair timidly.  He jumped slightly as the other sylvari’s fingers brushed against the bottom of his jaw.  Removing the bandage revealed neat cuts of varying lengths circling the entirety of his neck.  Trahearne leaned in close, the thin lines of the cuts almost difficult to see among the curves of his leafy skin.  His hands moved with uncertainty as he dabbed at the wounds, and he could feel Harukehn swallow nervously beneath his fingers.  The warm, red glow in his face had spread to the tips of his ears.

“This must be uncomfortable,” Trahearne said, like an apology.

“It’s fine,” Harukehn breathed, keeping his gaze low. 

“Would you mind just…”  Trahearne gently tilted the sylvari’s chin up slightly.  “Holding your head up?”

Harukehn closed his eyes and made a noise in acknowledgement.  Trahearne could see the discomfort in his face and hear the way he was struggling to keep his breathing steady.  He held a piece of gauze up to Harukehn’s neck as he prepared a new bandage, open palm pressed gently against his throat.  He wrapped it around him and instead of tying a clumsy and potentially dangerously tight knot, he finished with attaching to the front of the bandage a small, hooked fixing.  He unconsciously allowed his hands to linger on Harukehn’s neck for a moment, feeling the warmth of his skin through the bandages, before pulling away.

“There.  It won’t get infected now,” he said finally.

Harukehn’s parted lips managed to stammer out a single word of thanks. 

“Are you alright?”

Harukehn opened his eyes again and met the other sylvari’s gaze.  “I’m…  Okay.”

Trahearne began to pack away his tools as he spoke.  “If they keep wounding you in the same place, there’s a risk of it scarring,” he said.  “Please, if possible, would you come to me afterwards?  I will do what I can.”

“If it’s not too much of a hassle,” Harukehn replied.

“Don’t be silly.”

“Thank you, then.  I appreciate it.”

Trahearne momentarily placed a reassuring hand on the other sylvari’s knee.  “Anytime.  Truly.”  He then got up and walked around the desk to return the items to the drawer.  “You must be tired,” he said.  “Go rest if you need to.  Don’t worry about anything else for the day.”

“That might be a good idea,” Harukehn said, mainly to himself.

“I’ll walk you back,” Trahearne offered.  “And I’ll come and check in this evening,” he then gestured to the tea set that sat on the shelf behind him.  “Any preferences for tea?”

“Oh, uh,” Harukehn squinted at the stack of tea canisters.  “Ginger would be great.”

“Good choice.  I’ll bring it with me later,” Trahearne said, returning to Harukehn’s side.  “Shall we go?”  While there was nothing wrong with the other sylvari’s legs, he reached out a hand.

Harukehn took it and stood. 

Trahearne smiled and led him out of the office and walked Harukehn back to his quarters.  He turned to leave, but before he walked away, he offered one final request.

“Send for me if you need anything.  Please.”

Harukehn nodded.  “Thank you, Trahearne.  I will.”

[shining-gem34]

||I don't know if I brought it up before here, but Dan Feng is known to be rebellious towards the Preceptors (the Senioir Vidyadhara). There is a big reason for this, mostly out of distrust toward the Preceptors and their scheming behind the scenes. That is something I'll expand on later (and bother people with their big brains).

The other reason is that Dan Feng while he accepted his fate as his people High Elder, he has identity issues like Dan Heng. He wishes he can rip off this face and return it. Because no matter where he looks or how he tries to change it, all he can see is Yinyue Jun- Not Dan Feng.

He was raised to be Yinyue Jun the moment he presented with horns and tails. He was not allowed to be himself because the people wanted the High Elder, not the person named Dan Feng. Everytime he tried to be his own person, his attempts were squashed down and slowly over time he had closed off his own heart. He given up, became their ideal High Elder.

But it will not come without consequences. His rebellion are subtle such as the lack of makeup and hair accessories. He changed the traditional Yinyue Jun garb to something more reserved that covered up his skin and chose subdued colors like saturated blues and gray and silvers. He addresses the senior Vidyadhara with politeness and respect, but they will not sway him to be their puppet. His tongue is sharp as a water needle, knowing when and where to strike.

Dan Feng is thankful that he is strong at least because they dare not to openly strike against him. And thankfully, for the time being, they are still in need of a High Elder.

Until the Sedition happened

Anyway, Dan Feng tries to differentiate himself as much as possible from the previous High Elders before him. There are moments it will get bad enough, that he feels like he's in a prison of his own body that he cannot escape from. It will make him feel like he has given up asserting his own identity but at the same time, the stubborn spiteful part of him refuses to bend so easily.

If he must be a High Elder, he shall lead his people the way he believes they should be guided. Not a puppet of the Preceptors bidding.

That's why it means so much when he found friends with the HCQ. He found friendship and camaraderie with people he came to see as his own family. They're a band of outcasts with dreams of their own and forging a path of their own making. They see him as Dan Feng and not the ever distant and ethereal Yinyue Jun.

[everlastiingiimmortals]

[ META ] + jing yuan feelings towards dan heng's punishments

Meta. Not currently accepting!

Nothing short of awful.

There will always be a part of him that'll harbor immense guilt for what Dan Heng had to go through. There's no doubt that Dan Heng -- at least with respect to our dynamic -- does not understand the options that Jing Yuan had to choose between, for just the slightest chance at not just a compromise, but more importantly a chance for Dan Heng to escape. It was very much the lesser of two evils, one that Jing Yuan is still spurned for by the Preceptors. Dan Heng (and subsequently, Dan Feng's) freedom from the High Elder cycle that he loathed so much was worth the prices he had to pay.

Even then, he hates himself for the suffering Dan Heng had to go through anyway. He doesn't blame Dan Heng for resenting him for it, either. He's very much content with the idea of Dan Heng holding a grudge against him for that for the rest of their days; he doesn't need to be seen as Dan Heng's savior. He hardly considers himself one as it is. Just knowing that Dan Heng can have a life beyond the Luofu, a life he yearns for every day, is enough. If Dan Heng never learns the truth, that's fine too. Jing Yuan's done what he can. He can hold peace with that.

(The regret he holds for effectively dragging Dan Heng back to the Luofu in order to resolve the Stellaron crisis is immense as well. After all, he does tell Dan Heng that there are things he has to do as the General of the Luofu that he very much doesn't want to. I also think it's pretty clear that he wasn't quite as prepared to see Dan Heng again as he'd have liked to be, especially once he took on his High Elder form. He feels guilty for that, too. At the end of Dan Heng's companion quest, I think his offering for Dan Heng to stay was another attempt at an olive branch. He knew it was never going to be something Dan Heng would accept, but he hoped Dan Heng would be able to read the intentions underneath his words: You'll always have a home here, if you want one. I'll make one for you.

...Really, Jing Yuan just misses having someone familiar from the golden days. Do forgive him for grieving, Dan Heng. He'd like to know you for you, truly. He just needs some time. And... he'll understand if you don't feel the same.)

[jueying]

Nothing good ever came of an emergency meeting with the preceptors - truthfully, not much good came from a regular meeting with the panel either, but the results of today deserved more than his usual annoyed rub of temples. Dan Feng had not batted an eye when the formation of the High-Cloud Quintet occurred; a task force between all the various ships seemed an appropriate solution when the forces of Abundance and other enemies alike were waging a collective war against the Alliance felt like a smart solution. Already too, the tides of war seemed to be shifting after the coalition became solid, completed by the inclusion of Jingliu's lieutenant in command after she had passed her undoubtedly rigid review of his skills.

The well forged relationships brewing between everyone in that group had him forgetting about his own duties from time to time, eager to bask in the odd normality of their company. Jingliu had shown a surprisingly playful side to her outwardly stringent personality, Baiheng's sweet and bubbly nature had her weaving straight into just about anyone's heart and Dan Feng was deemed no exception. Yingxing's perspective as the lone short lived species was fiery and full of the life that long lived species seemed to lack - a vigor to his energy that Dan Feng found interesting and one that seemed to playfully butt heads with Jing Yuan the most of all. And Jing Yuan, the one he had known the longest second to Jingliu had etched a place in his own heart long before he was officially part of the High-Cloud Quintet. After all, it felt like he had never known what laughter truly was until Jing Yuan brought it to his shores, constant as the crashing waves were in his approach every day.

Maybe it was all these exchanges that had him forgetting about the tension between supposed tension between the vidyadhara and the rest of the long lived species, certainly borne from the fear that vidyadhara had for being unable to return to the cycle if they were to fall during battle. Points were made on both sides, it was unfair for the natives to take the brunt of soldier deaths when the Alliance didn't only consist them, but the lives of the vidyadhara were not a replenishing source - losses more permanent when a new egg on Scalegorge Waterscape didn't appear. So a solution arose there, undoubtedly made before consultation with him in yet another reminder that he was just another cog in the machine despite all his power and willpower.

An arranged marriage then, to an official of the Luofu. Vidyadhara could bear no children in general, beyond his body's own inability to do so period. The news almost drew an uncharacteristic chuckle from his stunned mouth, disbelief barely scratching the surface on whatever emotion kept tight beyond the mask of the high elder. All he could do in the moment was steel himself and pry into the web of intentions for more information on the matter - sigh leeching out of him when the only information they could provide was that this individual was a general and that they would 'surely pass any and all selection criteria that the preceptors themselves had'. Duty above all, the mantra hung heavily on his neck as always but more so today when the meeting was adjourned and he was left with his thoughts.

The thought of taking on a significant other was never a thought in Dan Feng's mind. His duties and burdens were unfair factors to bring into any relationship, less of all into one as intimate as romance. His dragon's heart agreed with that fervently - romance and emotions were liabilities that only hindered one when decisions needed to be made, complicating factors when the greater good was all that needed to be considered. At the same time, his human heart yearned for connection despite all that - warmed by the bonds that had been forged within the fires of opposition and strife; a beacon of sunlight to cut against the darkness of the moon that his soul was fated to carry through all his lives.

Fears mounted in the coming weeks and questions without answer only grew. Which general was he to be wed to? What did this mean for his coalition with the High-Cloud Quintet, could he expect to mean that he would continue on or would this so called general bask in the power of spouse instead? Surely one who had risen to the rank of general would understand the importance and the effectiveness that the HCQ had showed so far, but his years told him that people were always a variable that could never be accounted for.

Steadily, preparations for a festival began taking shape along with visits to the tailor shop to be fitted for what was undoubtedly meant to be his wedding clothes. At first, no one asked questions about his increasingly frequent partings from the group - everyone had their own responsibilities beyond those of the group so an unsaid understanding echoed through many decisions. It wasn't until Baiheng huffed a bit about how little of him everyone had seen in the last few weeks did the floodgates of questions arise and the discussion of his arranged marriage came to light. Hearing how miffed everyone was had set some light on his heavy heart after weeks of sinking, a rueful chuckle or two slipping from him when Baiheng let out another huff and Yingxing had crossed his arms in that truly annoyed way of his. Jingliu had sighed and only said that perhaps it was for the best that Jing Yuan was off the ship on a lengthy expedition once the truth was all out in the open and most of them agreed on the matter.

The issue of how to tell Jing Yuan was one that seemed to only spin in Dan Feng's head, fleeting touches and gazes held too long gestures that even he had done when it came to the other. He deserved to know in person, not over some roughened slip of paper delivered by a wayward bird but the high elder wasn't sure if he could stomach the heartbreak that was sure to show in his eyes. Jing Yuan, who had always respected his own devotion to his duties and never pushed beyond what Dan Feng was comfortable with despite the yearning that the elder could see in his golden hues, deserved more than what the fates had planned and for once he let himself feel how it pained him to be unable to be the one who could reciprocate the depths of his feelings.

The day quickly approached after that, news of a successful expedition blending in with the cheerful atmosphere that came with a festival.

"They still haven't told you who you're supposed to be married to? It's the day of already!"

"One would expect some kind of courtesy towards one in your position at least. The people would riot if they knew."

"You long lived species and your messed up customs... though guess it sounds like this isn't standard practice."

"It sure isn't! I still say we riot - they can't catch all of us!"

"Combined forces of the vidyadhara and the cloud knights would surely outnumber the four of us, even if I do appreciate the thought Bai'er."

Thankfully this conversation died down before someone finally came to retrieve him, talking about how his silks were ready for the ceremony over Baiheng's thinly veiled gestures to strike first before he bid them farewell for now. The silks were fine and comfortable against his frame, but did little to ease the chill that began to settle beneath his skin or clear the fog creeping up along his nape and back of his head. Bright and striking red filtered a muted crimson in his vision as his footsteps strained heavy on the backs of his calves when he made his way to a platform just below the grand stage in wait.

Two announcements, the announcer said with a voice loud enough to break through Dan Feng's trance before gesturing over to the other side of the stage - haze lifting from his senses when a familiar figure made his way up to the main stage...

arranged marriage || @celesticlnstcrs

[brightwingedbat]

Alright time to ramble about Marcus and Tybalt!

So, prior to meeting Tybalt Leftpaw, Marcus Furyclash was very much the most charr-est charr you could get. He and his warbandmate Maverick were two peas in a pod, proud, cocky and competitive with a side of violent.

Then Marcus joins the Whispers, because he's not getting physically stronger than his rival Nastazya. He wants to get quicker, more agile.

The first mission with Tybalt at first was a bore to him, going around just talking to people for info. As a blood he's beaten people for info before. But then the next part, distracting the pirates with a drinking contest? This actually got him way closer to Tybalt just from that, especially getting to fight their way out from the pirates afterwards. He just started connecting to Tybalt way more after that.

From there things just soared, he was making fast friends with Tybs, and enjoyed getting his Whispers training from him.

And then eventually they go to aid the skritt, finding Nastazya and Forgal have done the same. During this, it's when Marcus finds out about Tybalt's bad history with explosions and his right arm. But by now, he's fast friends with him, he's basically just like a warbandmate to him now. And built-in prejudice he has against a gladium is replaced by this new care for Tybalt, the spark that shifts his viewpoints.

And then came Claw Island, Marcus was there with Nastazya and Chip. All three of their mentors fell in a last stand, Tybalt, Forgal and Sieran.

Marcus took this the hardest, demanding that Tybalt should get away, he'll fight to the end. But Leftpaw was adamant, and Furyclash was dragged away roaring by Nastazya because they couldn't waste any more time.

He'd never lost any of his warbandmates before, this was the first time he really felt loss. He was struggling far more than Chip or Nastazya, to the point that Naz even tried to console him. He just brushed her off, and she got Trahearne to accompany Marcus when returning to the preceptors. Ultimately, Naz's leadership on Claw Island is what convinced Trahearne to choose her as Commander.

After saving the people in Lion's Arch from undead attacks, Marcus got his strength back again. This is what Tybalt wanted him to keep on doing, this is what he needs to keep doing.

And then comes Marcus being sent to assist with a mortar crew against Risen as the new Pact makes its way towards Orr. And the horrific trick that made him command they open fire on a group of Pact soldiers mesmerised to look like the Risen.

Marcus' heart was torn apart right there, especially after his newfound drive to be saving people thanks to Tybalt's impact. The prideful, violent charr Marcus once was has firmly been abandoned. He makes amends, he finds out the truth, then dedicates himself fully to never abandoning another person again. If they can be saved, he will save them. (This is also what later leads to Marcus quickly chasing after Rytlock into the Mists, he's not gonna let another Tybalt happen.)

The new Marcus is here to stay, a changed man. And after Zhaitan is taken down, the smitten-with-Naz charr approaches to ask to accompany her. Partly to be with her, partly to give back to Tyria, to make the world better in Tybalt's place.

---

Many years later, during the events of Cantha, Marcus loses his right hand protecting his daughter.

His new paw prosthesis brings thoughts back to his head. --- Excerpt from my Commander Nastazya stories ---

Marcus and Nastazya both respond with grateful farewells, now going to take their leave of the mansion, time to let those inventors get on with their current tasks. Once outside and back in the Daigo Ward, Marcus eagerly looks about his new jade tech paw, gesturing and moving it around as he gets used to it.

"Enjoying yourself?" Ragewelder comments jovially, it's fun seeing him so entranced by it.

"It's pretty great, I tell you. Just think how many charr could have a better life with something like this, or even like how Taimi has those supports on her legs." Furyclash flinches for a moment, his gaze lowers. "Hm… Think how much better a life Tybalt could've had with one of these."

"…Marc." Nastazya sighs softly, holding a paw on his bare shoulder. "It's been over nine years and you still think of him, he really changed you, didn't he?"

"Yeah, he did. If he could see us now, having beaten back all of the elder dragons…" The tiger-striped charr looks to his paws, his regular left and his mechanical right, a soft chuckle escapes him. "Y'know, now I'm a Leftpaw like Tybalt was, huh?"

"You are, aren't you? Didn't think of that until now…" A bittersweet expression on Ragewelder's face as she speaks softly. "Not planning to change your name are you?"

"No, no. I'll always be Furyclash, that's who I am." He smiles to his mate, his left paw moving up to hold over hers. "My chance to be here, with you. If Tybalt hadn't done what he did, we wouldn't have this. I'm thankful, despite how much I wish he would still be here to share drinks with."

"Then after out sightseeing, how about we do just that? A good drink for all those we've lost, who got us this far." Nastazya suggests, perhaps some helpful closure after all this.

"I'd like that." Marcus gently nuzzles his snout up beside his mate's, getting the same in return.